Sunday, April 3, 2011


I'm sick. It's not fun, especially with two little ones. I'm so sick, I actually made the husband leave his shift and come home. I felt it was safer for the kids because if one of them needed me...more than usual...I wouldn't be useful and that's not so good. Stay at home moms aren't allotted sick days like your average employee...but this time I actually lowered my pride and requested help.

The hubby is here although he's about to get up and go to work leaving me to fend for myself. He's been great while I've been miserable.

At 4am, since I'm already awake with a sore throat that is about to have me reach in and pull my tonsils out myself (yes I still have mine). A nose that won't allow air in, and a cough I'm positive is giving me some wonderful ab muscles. I'm miserable. I hear the youngest coughing and I hear the husband stumble in there to try and soothe her. (The husband has been sleeping on the couch. I'm sure it's because he doesn't want my cooties but I tell myself it's so I can sleep soundly. Ha!) She's still coughing. I get up to take motrin to lower my fever and make my throat stop hurting and sudafed to open up my nose. I grab her water and stumble in there to see if he wants me to give it a try. We switch shifts.

I rock and sing (as well as anyone can with half a voice) and as she's finally dozing off...I'm reminded.

I'm reminded how small she use to be. How with both girls I remembered rocking them as newborns in their chairs, so tiny they only filled up my arms. I remember always thinking that one day they will be as long as the width of the chair. The thought at the time seemed crazy but I knew it was going to happen. Today, I realized the youngest is not only the width of the chair, but longer. Where did all that time go?

I'm reminded as I rock her again (after she wakes up crying after I try to lay her down...classic) that before I know it, this baby will be her sister's age and may not be so cuddly. I'm reminded that if I just blink long enough, this little baby will be a teenager with attitude, annoyed by her parents.

I always wondered how the girls would look as they got older. At three, five, ten, teenager, adult. I never imagined those ages would come so quickly. My oldest is already 3.5. I'm reminded how quickly time really does fly.

I'm reminded, as I rock and cuddle my daughter, of a little girl named Rylie that is Emily's age and fighting for her life. She has cancer and I can't even begin to understand how that family has the strength it does. I can' begin to imagine the strength of that girl. She has more strength than I think I will ever have. As annoyed as I can get with my girls, they are healthy. My heart breaks for Rylie and her family. I cannot for one second understand the pain inside that mother seeing her precious daughter so sick. I am scared for my own children. Rylie was just diagnosed last year.

Life. We seem to take so much for granted. We seem to move so fast and fail to take the time to really enjoy all the things this world has to offer. When's the last time I actually took the time to really see life? I get so caught up with the kids not listening, doing things they shouldn't, whining and having temper tantrums. But I fail, often, to smile in those times and remember these are little humans just learning about life. Something that I am responsible for teaching them. But the funniest part of that a parent we spend all our time teaching our kids about life, but they are actually the ones teaching us what life is all about.

Reminders are good. It helps to get back on track. I just wish I wasn't one of those that NEEDED reminders...I just wish I lived like that all the time.

But it's now time to get out of bed and move on with this day without the help of my husband. And although I don't feel good at all...I think today will be a good day!

1 comment:

John said...

Truly hope you're feeling better soon - I, somehow, have developed the ability to pick up each & every bug that passes around anyplace that I am . . . of course, the kids get it, but my stay-at-home wife has avoided the worst of what I've had. I've felt completely useless when I've been sick at home, can't do anything and I try to keep myself away from the kids so that, in case their cooties are different than mine, I don't infect them.

It's such a horrible feeling, for somebody who already feels like he "doesn't do enough" at home. Icky.

I'm glad you swallowed your pride to ask for help - it does no good if you can't get yourself better.