The post in which I whine...
Today is one of those days. One in which I know that the only way I will get through is by the grace and strength I find in my God. One that started way too early with a little boy who had wet his bed. Then he wet his bed again. Then he wet my bed. Then my toddler wet through his diaper, all over his bed.
I knew by the second wet bed that there was little hope of getting enough rest to rid myself of the headache that has been sitting above my right eyeball for 13 days. Or for the flu that has been making me ache and moan for 5 days or so, to leave. I laid in bed, next to the wet, wee boy and the giant wet spot, praying, "God, please let us all sleep just a wee bit more. Please. Sleep."
The little boy, who kept wetting the bed, also has the flu (as does Daddy). He is feverish and whiny, extremely whiny. My newly preteen boy, has a newly minted attitude problem to go with his new potty humour fetish. So our school day has been full of whining and eye rolling and arm folding. (and a few inappropriate body part references...)
Brent called from work, right in the middle of the chaos. After making a few sympathetic noises, he made the little chuckle that I know means that he is very thankful to be at work, and not dealing with the chaos. I whimpered through the phone, "Please come and save me..."
Brent laughed and said, "If I am coming home, I am bringing my man cold with me."
I had to laugh. I know what that means. He goes to bed until he feels better and I still deal with the rest. Funny only because we both know it to be true.
Don't get me wrong, he is an awesome partner and co-parent. He has been trying really hard to let me rest and feel better, he took over all weekend. He is a very active parent, he shares in the cooking, shopping and cleaning. Usually. And he can suck it up and work hard, even when he is very sick. But if he gets sick and has the luxury of being home, well, we don't see him again until he is well. He is smart like that. If only we were all so smart as to get man colds. Instead of lingering martyr/mother illnesses, which stick around because either we can't get enough rest to get well, or they keep getting passed back and forth between us and our boogery faced children.
Silly mama. I think that as soon as I finish the 5 loads of bedding I have to wash today, I will curl up with one of my sickies (and my freshly laundered duvet) and take a nap.
PS: It is not all bad. My previously bickering and whining children, took over the iPad to finish their memory work while I was on the phone and are now all sitting together watching some Brain Pop and getting along while Ihide type. And I barely feel guilty, because it is educational.
Now to go make some KD for lunch, which I won't feel guilty about either. My husband picked that and a bunch of fruit and yogurt up (all favourites) for us this week, to make things easier for me!
eek!
As I was typing that, I heard the telltale, "click, click, click," of the ignitor on my gas stove. I ran downstairs to find the 2 year old, ripping open a box of KD and trying to start the stove. Apparently he was not content to wait for me to feed him.
Now that I wrote all that down, I feel surprisingly better. Ready to go and cope with the rest of the day. I think I will let the kids do their UB David and I'll B Jonathan Bible studies on the computers this afternoon, while hopefully the 2 small kids nap and I rest. Maybe I will even get out the tea things and the poetry and art books for a tea time with them. Maybe...
I knew by the second wet bed that there was little hope of getting enough rest to rid myself of the headache that has been sitting above my right eyeball for 13 days. Or for the flu that has been making me ache and moan for 5 days or so, to leave. I laid in bed, next to the wet, wee boy and the giant wet spot, praying, "God, please let us all sleep just a wee bit more. Please. Sleep."
The little boy, who kept wetting the bed, also has the flu (as does Daddy). He is feverish and whiny, extremely whiny. My newly preteen boy, has a newly minted attitude problem to go with his new potty humour fetish. So our school day has been full of whining and eye rolling and arm folding. (and a few inappropriate body part references...)
Brent called from work, right in the middle of the chaos. After making a few sympathetic noises, he made the little chuckle that I know means that he is very thankful to be at work, and not dealing with the chaos. I whimpered through the phone, "Please come and save me..."
Brent laughed and said, "If I am coming home, I am bringing my man cold with me."
I had to laugh. I know what that means. He goes to bed until he feels better and I still deal with the rest. Funny only because we both know it to be true.
Don't get me wrong, he is an awesome partner and co-parent. He has been trying really hard to let me rest and feel better, he took over all weekend. He is a very active parent, he shares in the cooking, shopping and cleaning. Usually. And he can suck it up and work hard, even when he is very sick. But if he gets sick and has the luxury of being home, well, we don't see him again until he is well. He is smart like that. If only we were all so smart as to get man colds. Instead of lingering martyr/mother illnesses, which stick around because either we can't get enough rest to get well, or they keep getting passed back and forth between us and our boogery faced children.
Silly mama. I think that as soon as I finish the 5 loads of bedding I have to wash today, I will curl up with one of my sickies (and my freshly laundered duvet) and take a nap.
PS: It is not all bad. My previously bickering and whining children, took over the iPad to finish their memory work while I was on the phone and are now all sitting together watching some Brain Pop and getting along while I
Now to go make some KD for lunch, which I won't feel guilty about either. My husband picked that and a bunch of fruit and yogurt up (all favourites) for us this week, to make things easier for me!
eek!
As I was typing that, I heard the telltale, "click, click, click," of the ignitor on my gas stove. I ran downstairs to find the 2 year old, ripping open a box of KD and trying to start the stove. Apparently he was not content to wait for me to feed him.
Now that I wrote all that down, I feel surprisingly better. Ready to go and cope with the rest of the day. I think I will let the kids do their UB David and I'll B Jonathan Bible studies on the computers this afternoon, while hopefully the 2 small kids nap and I rest. Maybe I will even get out the tea things and the poetry and art books for a tea time with them. Maybe...
Yaaaay for venting!
ReplyDeleteHow envious I am of you daughter/wonder woman,I too held sick babies in the middle of the night, bathing feverish little ones to bring down a temp! Walked on piles of laundry to get to the washer, knowing full well this would be an all week activity! Yes the generations of motherhood don't really change all that much, there was the man-cold back then when the "king" retired to his chambers to suffer in not-so-silent repose. Why am I envious....I think you know that although 24 hours of a sick household seems like an eternity....babies don't last! Looking back......my arms ache for the snot-nosed cuddles,the fat cheeks resting trustingly on my shoulder as we rocked long into the night. The endless batches of cookies that evaporated, the soaking wet boots on the register (yes they did stink)and the last thing at night...God Bless Mommy and Daddy,Nana and Poppa,Gramma and Grampa, all my sisters, please make it be a nice day tomorrow and please make me have good dreams or no dreams..........remember?!!! Surely it was just a blink ago....
ReplyDeleteOh Mama, my kids say, "..Good dreams or no dreams..." too:) E prays each night for each person in our family and often the bigger kids' friends, and for 'the people affected by the hurricane.."
ReplyDeleteAnd it sure does pass quickly. That wee babe that we once held, has become a man, apparently while my eyes were closed. And I don't have any babies anymore, though at 2 S still snuggles in like a baby occasionally and I revel in those chubby arms wrapped around my neck. The blur of passing days are the reason that I don't usually make E go back to bed when he crawls in with me at 4 am. I try to enjoy his wee boy smell and his warmth and his snuggles. Because at 9, J doesn't do that anymore, and though he loves to cuddle occasionally, those days are fewer now. I am even trying to enjoy the school moments and not get to bent out of shape when he complains about school, because now I don't have R at home anymore, someone else is his teacher and he prefers it. We can't make time stay still. We can't go back. We have to smile with the memories and go forward with our children who are racing to grow up. And take the moments we are given as the wondrous gifts that they are. Love you Mom. Remember to snuggle your grandkids as often as possible, they are growing just as quickly as we did!
Love ya Lainie! Thanks for stopping in, miss this lovely bloggy world and even lovelier bloggy friends.
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