"So why do you think you keep getting this virus?"

For just a minute I wasn't sure he was serious. Why the hell was he asking me? Of the two of us, at last check he was the one with the medical degree. I am but a humble mom.

He came to the conclusion that my repeated attacks of viral grunge are at least partially the result of not taking my vitamins. He feels that my system is run down.

Oh. You mean because I don't sleep due to the fact that my kids wanna rock and roll all night and party every day?

And here's where the conversation always stalls, because not a single person in existence can tell me how to make them stay inert and well behaved long enough for me to get as much sleep as I would need to fortify my immune system.

The exchange usually goes a little something like this:

You need rest.

Yeah.

So you're aware of the effects of not getting enough and how it wears down your body?

Yes. Any suggestions on how to get a regular sleep pattern established? I have babies and they always need me.

How many and how old?

Three, a 14 year old, a 2 year old and a 1 year old.

The doctor chuckles and shrugs. Fucked if I know, the shrug seems to say.

Uh-huh.

So now I have a vitamin deficiency and when I got home and explained it all to Larry I was treated to a painfully long speech in which he detailed my not so good tendencies toward forgetting to do things I know I'm supposed to do. Like taking my vitamins and giving the babies theirs.

Can we do this after the fever breaks and I'm finished passing out please?

Apparently not. I love the guy more than life itself but he is one of those people who always thinks he's right. And even when, as in this case, he is, I don't especially need the lecture when I'm feeling like shit. I had forgotten my cell phone and stopped by the house on the way out to get my prescription. The doctor gave me a mouth rinse to help with my throat and the soreness in my mouth.

Larry always says he doesn't think I'm a bad mother but then proceeds to tell me my priorities are screwed up.

"You care more about what goes on on the internet than doing the little things that matter for yourself and your children."

Not true. My children come first. I pointed out to him that they are always clean, well fed, have their pants changed on a rather tight schedule to avoid diaper rash and have unlimited playtime. On top of that, Trent's starting to speak more and Zoe's eczema is treated daily. The children are not neglected because I forget to give them their vitamins.

"I never said you neglected them."

Yes you did. You just implied it by telling me my priorities aren't in order. I think they are.

I have no desire to get into this discussion with him. It's similar to ones we've had in the past. A few weeks ago he told me I neglect the kids because I was downstairs checking my email when it started to rain. The windows were open upstairs and some water splashed in, wetting the plant shelf behind the window. Pissed off, he tells me that because of the internet I never know anything that's going on and I'm not taking care of my home and family.

I hadn't had a break all day, first of all. Second of all, it wasn't raining when I went downstairs. The window in the study is closed and the curtains pulled across it so I had no idea it was raining. He acted as if I had been on forever, when I had barely had time to open my mailbox when I heard him upstairs yelling. He got really ugly. Yelled at me in full earshot of John.

Of course, an argument got started.

He does that all of the time. Tells me I'm not taking care of this or that like I'm supposed to be then tells me I'm being defensive when I attempt to prove otherwise. Then he tells me I'm taking everything too personally and he never said I was a bad mother.

That's his defense.

He doesn't need to say it directly. By saying the other things he says he implies it. The statement is made, albeit indirectly.

There are no doubts. He acts as if I wasn't already familiar with that manuever. I've never known a man who didn't use it. It's called saying something without actually saying anything. My father is the unquestioned master.

I'm really running out of steam and I'd better go now because Zoe just now went to sleep. Of course, in reality I'm too inattentive to know what's actually going on with Zoe, (but no one said I'm a bad mother).

I'll fix the typos and whatnot tomorrow morning.

G'night.