I just love the look on that woman’s face, in the painting. Five more minutes…
As adults, and especially as parents, we have to accept that there are certain levels of sickness. There’s the kind of sick where you take a pill every six hours and get on with your life (allergies). There’s the kind of sick where you take one day off from work but still do everything for your children (a cold). One step up from that is the kind of sick where you have to drop the ball on work and the kids (stomach virus). I’ve been that kind of sick since Sunday–fever, aches, sore throat, cough, blargh. It’s no Man Cold, but pretty sick. Plus it’s spring break for the kids. Double BLARGH with a cherry on top.
I am the first to say that G has been AWESOME. I’ve discovered that if I really do just let things go, he catches them. The house isn’t going to run to my standards, but it keeps going. Granted, I had to evict a nest of baby racoons from Vivi’s hair this morning and the Playstation has paid for itself in three days…but still. They’re fine. And I’m feeling better after a few horizontal days. Looking around the kitchen, most things that should be empty are overflowing and most things that should be overflowing are empty. Alas. All shall be well…eventually.
Now, if you have a man in your life you have experienced the vicissitudes of the Man Cold. Symptoms of a Man Cold include (but are by NO MEANS limited to): a fever as high as 99.6, a sniffle, that one cough that one time, generalized malaise and a chill that can only be remedied by taking to one’s bed just before bath time, dinner time and bed time. G is prone to Man Colds and I am prone to just toughing it out. He takes to the bed; I take up the slack. He returns to health and as he feels better he works himself back into the daily flow of parenting 3 kids. Eventually.
This is not my first rodeo, so the Man Cold is nothing new. My first husband, AKA Fartbuster, once took a three hour nap on the short couch and woke up convinced he had meningitis…because his neck hurt. I had spent that three hours cleaning the house, doing laundry and starting dinner. I was up to my elbows in cutting up chicken when he shuffled into the kitchen and told me of his meningitis fears. I gave him a blank stare and said, “Well, other symptoms of meningitis include a fever. Do you have a fever?” He asked me to feel his forehead. I cut my eyes to the raw chicken guts. “I do feel kinda hot. What are the other symptoms?” he mewled. Are you kidding me??? Dude. “An all over body rash. Do you have an all over body rash? You look OK from here.” He said he didn’t think so and wandered off. After I got dinner in the oven, I walked into the bedroom to discover Fartbuster naked and spreadeagled on the bed. “What are you DOING?” He poked his head up–“Aren’t you going to check me for the body rash?” I told him to take a double dose of Hell No. That meningitis was what we call a “psycho-so-MAN-tic” illness.
The thing about being a mom is that the instant you are “better,” you are BACK. You will go from zero to Momty in 6 seconds. As soon as one foot pokes out from beneath the covers and lights on the floor, you better hit the ground momming. So I better get off this computer and get back to it. We got racoons to relocate.