One reason I’m so cranky? I have hives.
The good news is that I think we’ve managed to steam clean all the evil Arm & Hammer pet odor stuff (to which I am, um, somewhat allergic) out of the carpet. All hail the Bissell SpotBot. Last time this happened (because there was a last time) I just sort of had to wait until the offending allergin made its leisurely way out of the air and settled deep into the base of my spine. No, wait – that’s LSD. Anyway, steam cleaning definitely beats an elderly vacuum. (I dig the SpotBot. I sort of want to run around the house spot-cleaning random areas like some sort of demented carpet fairy. Perhaps an outfit will be involved.)
Of course, last time I got hives I also had the option of a nice Benadryl and a long nap, which (if I recall correctly) eventually ended my purgatory of itch. This time, all I can do is sit merrily on my hands and think fond thoughts about those halcyon days when my entire body did not feel as though it was covered in flea bites. Breastfeeding mamas do not get to take Benadryl. Breastfeeding mamas can do nothing but refrain from scratching. Scratching = bad, according to the Internet (which does not lie). I’m unclear on exactly why it’s bad. Maybe the Internet is like the mean older sibling who derives sick pleasure from making her younger, more gullible sister squirm with misery. In that case, I think I’m karmically screwed. (Remind me to tell you about the time I told my sister that normal-sized zits were just the introductory version and that the real ones would take up her whole forehead…)