My morning: ... Well, actually, let's take it back just a few hours. So this time being a sick, I have a stuffy-beyond-life nose (You know, the kind that makes your nose feel like a giant bruise because you have had to blow it so much, and you feel like your brain is about to come out through your nostrils every time to want to clear it all out. Yeah, that kind.), a constant headache (love those), and a sore throat, with a cough on top (the kind that you have a cough there, but you are constantly working to hold back the cough, because your throat hurts so dang much, so the blasted cough tickle is the better of the two options). Think I got a good night's rest? Nope. Also, drinking an extra amount of water is supposed to help get you better, right? Yeah, yeah, yeah, but it also makes you have to pee multiple times a night like a preggo. (I'm not pregnant.)
6:45 AM
Brody is awake. Of course. I walk into his room, barely traveling straight, and only able to whisper, to attempt to try to coax him into letting me change his diaper, his soaked sheets, and his soaked pajamas (dang you Huggies "overnight" diapers that don't actually work!). After, we load up his FIVE stuffed dogs (Thank you kind Valentine's Day Gift Givers), and 4 blankets. I sit him on the couch, and
I knew that this would consist of him climbing himself onto the counter, and getting the cereal box off of the top of the fridge. I knew that this was kind of dangerous. But I also knew that he does this same action many times a day without my consent, so really, what is the difference? Safe and sound, he got them himself. Win. Good choice, Momma. Now, go to sleep, just go to sleep.
{10 minutes later} "Mommmmaaaa! Baby is awake!" Goodness? Already? Of course, she would wake up more than a hour earlier than normal. If only Brody could go get her out of her bed by himself too. That'd be the life. "Let's go get her, Brody." We go retrieve the sweet little bundle from her bed, and I am greeted with her cute little smile. I love that baby. So, that's a plus.
As I change her poopy-poopy-poopy diaper, Brody informs me that he is poopy as well. Two poopy diapers. Awesome. At least I can't smell them though. So there's that. "Brody go get yourself a diaper." (I don't know if it is just Brody, but he LOVES retrieving things for me. It definitely has it's perks in times such as sick momma days.)
One thing though, mornings that I allow the TV to be on for longer than about an hour, the craziER side of Brody appears. He gets into things like lotion. He makes messes of things, like dumping all of the books on the floor from his bookshelf. He is mean to his sister, like pushing her, yelling at her, and being possessive over everything including things that actually really are her's. And I know this about the TV, but honestly, I never learn my lesson. I always have this vision in my head that they both will just sit there, with smiles on their faces, and watch the screen, and that I can relax. Ladies and gentlemen, this never happens. And I repeat, never happens. Even if they are sick along with me, somehow, even then, it just never happens. TV, at least in my house, is not a babysitter for my kids, as much as some days, like today, I try to make it be one.
Brody had gymnastics at 10:00 AM. The smart Momma, would have probably skipped it today, but the cheapo Momma, like myself, was like, "Heck no! This session is already paid for!" So therefore, I had to take a shower. The kids were somehow playing with puzzles together nicely for a split second, so I ran to the shower as fast as I could. (Nah, I didn't run. Who are we kidding?) But I got in the shower. The hot water, and the blessed steam made me feel so dang freaking goooooddddd.. I hear Bonnie screaming about something. I try my best to ignore it, because I REALLY needed this 2 minutes of space in the shower. The yelling doesn't stop. Uggghhhhh.. I get out of the shower, no towel, dripping wet, and run and grab Bonnie. I tell Brody that he needs to be nice to her. I sit her in her chair at their eating table, and cut her up a muffin. Yes, with conditioner still in my hair, and yes, with facewash still all over my face. Bonnie just stared up at her crazed out Momma. I was GOING to get that shower!!!!! I hopped back in and didn't hear anymore screaming for the rest of the 1 and a half minutes. Success.
I somehow managed to get both kids and myself ready, and out the door, on our way to gymnastics. (It helped immensely that gymnastics is extreme motivation for Brody to get himself ready, quickly. And it also provides a good amount of motivation for him to help retreive things for Bonnie, like socks, sippy cup, etc.) We did it though. So with a wet pony tail, we got to gymnastics on time, and Brody had a great time. And his energies were spent on something else than destroying, my already destroyed, house. Win.
On our way home, I imagined the mess we were about to arrive too. I thought about how I needed to feed the kids lunch. I thought about how I still hadn't cleaned up the muffin mess that Bonnie had made all over the kid's table, and all over the kitchen floor during my shower. I thought about all of this, parked the car in front of our home, ran inside, grabbed my wallet, and jumped back into the car and headed to McDonalds. Yep, it was just one of those days.
If anyone reads this, that was at McDonalds this morning.. To them, I would say, I tried to sit as far as I could from everyone else there. I would say, I'm sorry that you had to listen to me blowing my nose the entire time. I would also say, if you ever catch this illness, and you have kids, you will understand, so just you wait.
I sat there. They ate. They climbed in the playland (and probably caught more diseases for us to have to endure later), but I drank my caffeinated beverage (thank goodness for that!) with squinted, tired eyes. I was a wreck sitting there, in McDonalds this morning, but it was a break, and that was something I needed.
As we pulled out of the McDonalds parking lot, a huge rush of liquid spilled all over the front windshield of our car. Diet Dr. Pepper. Yum. All over the car. Yep, that was my luck. Of course, I forgot to take it off the top of the car after buckling the kids in. Of course. There goes my medicine of choice. What a waste of a dollar!! I quickly put the car in park, hopped out, grabbed the cup (I have no idea where the lid and straw went), and drove home, anticipating the nap time routine I had ahead of me with two kids....
You guys, you get through it, because you have to. It's dang hard sometimes though, and many times there are tears involved. Tears of frustration. Tears of impatience. & tears of complete and utter exhaustion. Being sick totally sucks. But being a mom and being sick, totally sucks even more.
5:00 PM
I lay in bed, typing this story and thanking the stars for an awesome husband who will rescue me from the kids and let me rest. I don't know how I got through this morning, but I feel like even though Jeff arrived to a disaster of a house when he got home, I won today. Somedays, keeping the kids alive equals winning. Somedays, that is all you can do, as a momma who is sick.
One last thing, Single Mommas----- You. Are. Saints.
The end.
