I'm prone to casual bouts of blog traffic paranoia in which I wonder what I have or haven't done to piss everyone off. For the most part, people are still commenting which is great because I live for comments. These are dull times you see. When your swinging single friends send group emails to ask what everyone is up to and you can only muster, "Uh, I went on a walk today." or "P. quite likes to eat pureed swede.", you know your life is hardly as thrilling as you would like it to be. At least comments and traffic lead me to think that I'm vastly more popular and entertaining than I really am.
I'm not being melodramatic children, the traffic here suuuuuuuuuuuucks. I have felt that since having P. my brain has slowly been drained through an invisible straw, so crap are my posts. I want to be witty and clever! I want to be brilliant and always hilarious like Alexa. Bitch. No lie, the number of people who bother to stop by anymore is similar to what it was when I first started blogging. That's even with padded stats courtesy of searches such as, "school doctor take off your panties" and "fucky mother". I wish I was kidding when I say that the latter search is one which leads lost and confused souls to my blog rather often. There is also a preoccupation with Elizabeth Hasselbeck, mainly concerning her fertility or the fact that she sucks. That's not a judgment call on my part, it just seems that a lot of Americans think she sucks and need to commisserate with someone else, hoping that by googling the expression they will be united with thousands of like-minded individuals.
The lack of traffic may also be due to me not commenting on others' blogs. To that I say, I want to comment desperately but Typepad have it in for me and still will not allow me to comment. I never realised that many of the blogs I read are hosted by Typepad, and they seem to have no interest whatsoever in helping me remedy this situation. Do they not care that it is affecting my popularity? For fuck's sake. I need love Typepad, I need love. Don't deprive me of it please.
Anyway, enough navel-gazing and whining. I'll update you on The Dude's Man Flu status. I'm pleased to read that many of you do not have partners afflicted with this, because it has been the bane of my existence in the past few days. You don't know how lucky you are. The chicken soup was only temporary relief for him, as he soon submitted to his illness again. He took Friday off work, and naturally he slept in due to being so very, very unwell. I was expected to get up with P. at 6.45am and carry on with my wifely and motherly duties as normal. Of course I was still sick with my cold, but mystery man illness trumps severe cold any day, right?
Despite the apex of his sickness being nausea, he still was hesitant to eat much of anything. He started to feel a bit better at one stage and said, "I think I might try to eat a bowl of porridge.", as if he'd been throwing up the contents of his stomach for days on end. How does someone not throw up at all and still moan that they don't know if their body can handle certain foods? Jesus.
I realised I made an error in my last post regarding the male pain threshold. I said that men are "pussies", when in fact that's going against everything I'm saying. I'm sure that designation was created by men, and as we know it alludes to men possessing the supposed physical weaknesses of women. I hate to subscribe to this cliche, but I do really doubt that many men could withstand childbirth (for instance) without much histrionics and carrying on. The Dude would require a month's bedrest, resistence of all food in case his poor, fragile body couldn't handle the sustinence, and constant assurance that he wasn't going to die. Oh, the drama.
The Dude has since recovered fully, even though it was clearly touch and go for awhile. Me, I'm still congested and blowing my nose all the time, but here I am, composing a blog post. I'm such a champ.
In an effort to getting my traffic back up to reasonable proportions I'm going to try something innovative - posting more than once every three weeks! Yep, I'm going to go for at least once or twice a week, maybe even three? Who am I kidding, I don't have that much to say. I already know what my next blog post will be about, and I plan on addressing some of your fabulous comments from the SAHM/working mom post. How exciting for us all.