Fall is here (or is it winter?!?!) and it is getting dark early again. There is a coldness in the wind that bites right through you. Winter is not far off now.
Every year I get sick when the weather changes like this. EVERY year. And this year was no exception. It requires lots of Ricola cough and throat drops, soup, hot drinks, water and NyQuil and DayQuil to get me through it. It takes a few days, for me to work it out. In the meantime, I look like something the dog barfed up and feel like something the garbage truck ran over.
My poor kids get shafted during this. Luckily this year it came right during Halloween so they have plenty of candy to keep them alive.
This time it has consisted of me completely losing my voice. Which I think the kids liked. All I could do was lie there defenseless as they tore apart the house. I could not yell, I could not move fast enough to catch them. All I could do was squeak occasionally and wander about the house trying to pick it up without feeling like my entire head might explode if I had to bend over one more time.
Luckily this also brought out the compassion in my kids. I assume it is because they realized how badly I was feeling. But it could be because they could not get in trouble. Or it could be that they have enjoyed the candy free for all (though Mark was thinking and put it up on top of the cabinet in the dining room so they can not reach it). Or it could be because I can not do school very well right now and Emma is enjoying the vacation. But what the hey, the kids are being nice to me. Emma has not told me once this week that she is not happy with me.
This morning I crawled out of bed for the THIRD morning in a row, coughing up my lungs, not being able to breathe and feeling like my throat is on fire. I went downstairs and crawled into Emma's bed for the THIRD morning in a row, hoping to curl up into a ball and die.
My kids crawled into the bed with me again as well. One on each side. As I lay there coughing and wiping my nose, I hear my girl say to her brother, "Davis we need to be nice to mommy today. She is not feeling well and she needs us to take care of her. Daddy even told me today, mommy, that I need to help take care of you. "
Love is having your kids lie in bed next to you, one rubbing your back and the other kissing your head, in hopes that these will be the magic cures to help you get better.
Love is having your husband tell your kids to help mommy because she is not feeling well and to take care of her until he gets home.
Love is having your six year old run the show for you when you can not do it.
For the record~ I am finally feeling better today actually. My voice is back for now. It must have been the back rubs and kisses that did it.
Every year I get sick when the weather changes like this. EVERY year. And this year was no exception. It requires lots of Ricola cough and throat drops, soup, hot drinks, water and NyQuil and DayQuil to get me through it. It takes a few days, for me to work it out. In the meantime, I look like something the dog barfed up and feel like something the garbage truck ran over.
My poor kids get shafted during this. Luckily this year it came right during Halloween so they have plenty of candy to keep them alive.
This time it has consisted of me completely losing my voice. Which I think the kids liked. All I could do was lie there defenseless as they tore apart the house. I could not yell, I could not move fast enough to catch them. All I could do was squeak occasionally and wander about the house trying to pick it up without feeling like my entire head might explode if I had to bend over one more time.
Luckily this also brought out the compassion in my kids. I assume it is because they realized how badly I was feeling. But it could be because they could not get in trouble. Or it could be that they have enjoyed the candy free for all (though Mark was thinking and put it up on top of the cabinet in the dining room so they can not reach it). Or it could be because I can not do school very well right now and Emma is enjoying the vacation. But what the hey, the kids are being nice to me. Emma has not told me once this week that she is not happy with me.
This morning I crawled out of bed for the THIRD morning in a row, coughing up my lungs, not being able to breathe and feeling like my throat is on fire. I went downstairs and crawled into Emma's bed for the THIRD morning in a row, hoping to curl up into a ball and die.
My kids crawled into the bed with me again as well. One on each side. As I lay there coughing and wiping my nose, I hear my girl say to her brother, "Davis we need to be nice to mommy today. She is not feeling well and she needs us to take care of her. Daddy even told me today, mommy, that I need to help take care of you. "
Love is having your kids lie in bed next to you, one rubbing your back and the other kissing your head, in hopes that these will be the magic cures to help you get better.
Love is having your husband tell your kids to help mommy because she is not feeling well and to take care of her until he gets home.
Love is having your six year old run the show for you when you can not do it.
For the record~ I am finally feeling better today actually. My voice is back for now. It must have been the back rubs and kisses that did it.
Comments
I secretly adore Riccola drops. Mmm!