Sick Days

Something I always tell friends who are thinking about having kids (once I'm done gushing about all the overwhelming awesomeness, make-you-cry-happy-way-more-often-than-you'll-admit moments, and general feeling of your heart being too big for your chest... mixed in with the most exhausting, most frustrating, most YOU'VE-GOT-TO-BE-KIDDING-ME!! moments-- basically, the most wonderful and rewarding emotional roller coaster you'll ever be blessed to ride) is that you don't get sick days.  Even on non-sick days, you don't get to clock out at 5 and leave your job, go home, put your feet up and leave your work and related concerns 20 miles away on your desk.  Your "work" and "related concerns" are running around your feet, hanging on your legs, or snuggled in your arms until you put them to bed; they're on your mind while you finish picking up the house so it's ready for tomorrow, and while you clean up dinner after they're asleep; then they're back to being snuggled in your arms because they had a bad dream or got too cold and need to cuddle to warm up... and then they're right there again in the morning when you wake up, ready to resume their position as your shadow or hip attachment, depending on their age and level of mobility.

Obviously you don't get sick days in that working environment.  There is no resting and taking it easy so your body can just work on getting better when there are ever-hungry children to feed, a baby to nurse constantly, bottoms to wipe, diapers to change, spills to clean up, dishes to wash, laundry to keep up with, dinner to think about, a house to keep on top of-- or let go, with the knowledge that it'll take a week to recover it if you do, and plants to repot (I know-- only I would do that while coughing my brains out, feeling like I have razors in my throat, and not enjoying a pretty case of pink eye, but my palm tree (anniversary present 2 years ago) was root-bound and so sad, and my orchid (mother's day gift last year) had roots going everywhere that were waayyy too long for the pot it was in...it needed to be done, honest!).

Yesterday, in the middle of one of my three minute long coughing fits, which have been so violent the kids stare at me with terrified and extremely concerned looks on their faces, probably half expecting me to start coughing out internal organs-- or at least some brains, I couldn't help but want to be 7 again, so I could just be all curled up, sick and pathetic in bed and not have to do anything for everyone.  Not only would I not have to do anything for anyone else, my mommy would come and take care of me.  She probably would have even repotted my plants for me.  Ohhh that sounds wonderful.   Hey Mom, want to come visit?

Don't worry, this isn't an extremely wordy invitation to a pity party, it's just a reminder to go thank your mom for all she did to take care of you, no matter how she felt, and, if you don't have kids of your own yet, to revel in your quiet time in bed with no one but yourself to take care of the next time you're sick.

I keep reminding myself of another dear Mama friend, who has... well, a few more kids than I do, and her telling me about one particular time all the kids were sick, throwing up everywhere, and then she came down with it, too.  You can imagine how totally not fun that must have been.  Whenever I don't feel well, or my kids are miserable and pathetic, I think of her and that story and realize it could be worse.  So, soo much worse.

So today, I'm thankful I only have three little ones while feeling like this, I'm thankful I have the best baby ever, who easily goes back to sleep every time I wake the poor little guy up with another coughing fit, and I'm SUPER thankful no one else in our house seems to have caught whatever awfulness I have (and here's hoping they don't decide to make a liar out of me, as they typically like to do, and come down with it immediately after I click "publish").
Three cheers for nursing babies, elderberries, goldenseal, garlic, and echinacea!  And an extra cheer for blanket forts, which allow sick mamas to sneak brief moments of rest while the kids are playing inside the fort and are unaware of the fact that Mama is resting for a second.  That is, of course, until their "!!!Non-busy, stationary Mama!!!  Must pester and need something immediately!!!" Alert goes off.
My mom always told me about that alert system (apparently I had one, too), but I didn't realize just how incredibly accurate and effective it was until I had little ones of my own and tried sitting to do nothing for a minute.

But seriously-- go thank your mom.  Right now.

And then build a blanket fort.  You know you want to.