My house seems to have fallen victim to some new and creative biological weapon (and with the use of that phrase, I welcome all my new readers from the NSA), or a biblical plague, or maybe just bad luck. Whatever the case, the stars have aligned, and they're not in my favor.
Over the course of the last seven days, the children have taken turns with sore throats, fevers, medications, hallucinations, allergic reactions, side effects, and projectile vomit. Even the dog got sick. Which means the parents haven't slept in a week. We are dangerously close to reaching the exhaustion equivalent of a nuclear meltdown.
My clothes smell like bleach. I have barf on my favorite boots. I'm spitefully jealous of my husband, because even though he only closed his eyes for 20 minutes last night, he gets to go to work today. At this point, I am using almost all my energy not to turn into 120 pounds of pure hate.
This is the side of motherhood that they don't put in the brochures. This is the sweatpants, unbrushed hair, bad lighting, no Photoshop side of motherhood. We all experience it at some point. It sucks, but there's not much to be done about it. We just keep our heads down, buy Gatorade and Clorox in bulk, and stumble our way through.
Whenever I have a week like this...or whenever someone barfs on my favorite boots, I remember Friar Laurence from Romeo and Juliet. (The secret is out. I really am that much of a nerd.) When Romeo thinks his life is over because he's been banished, Friar Laurence reminds him of all the ways he is lucky. Basically, he tells Romeo to suck it up, quit whining, and stop acting like an idiot.
I am big on silver linings, and sometimes I too need to be reminded to suck it up, quit whining, and stop acting like an idiot.
There are some silver linings to my forced, week-long confinement: My kitchen is cleaner than it has ever been; I have successfully managed to watch everything on my Netflix instant streaming list; I finally finished crocheting the matching scarves for my little lady and her American Girl doll that I have been working on (blissfully ignoring) for months; I've changed the color of my nail polish every day. Fresh nail polish really compliments the sweatpants and unbrushed hair look.
But the ultimate silver lining is the quality time I've gotten to spend with each of my monsters. I am all too aware that very soon they won't want me hanging around. So if I have to exploit their sickness to snuggle up and watch hours of Doctor Who with my son, or to read every chapter of Prisoner of Azkaban out loud "in the funny voices" with my daughter, exploit I will. I'm not above it.
I love my kids. Love them. Completely. Their sticky, little, germy fingers
have a vice-like grip on my heart. I cherish every second I get to
spend with them. Even when they barf on my favorite boots.