It happened. My body couldn’t fight it anymore. I am sick. I’m certain I caught this virus from the little girl coughing in my face at my son’s pre-school. Hey moms out there: If your kid has green snot oozing out of their nose KEEP THEM HOME. I know this may cut into your scrapbooking time. The stickers aren’t going anywhere. You can finish your tribute to Walt Disney another day. I actually overheard a mother the other day say, “He threw up last night, but felt fine this morning and didn’t want to miss gym day.” Plus, she needed to finish the wreath she was making for her front door.
My older son offered to take care of me, “After you make us breakfast and do the dishes you should go lay down mom.” At least he didn’t want me to vacuum too. Sure, it would be great if I could actually rest when I don’t feel well. However, the minute I laid my weary head on a pillow my children would scream.
My husband is useless in times like this. He was raised in a family of boys. He didn’t have a sister and never learned basic survival skills. Forget about trying to do a load of laundry. The concept of not mixing colors and whites doesn’t resonate with him. “Why not just get it all done in one load?”
If I took a day off from being a mom I would just have to work overtime tomorrow to clean my house. If I was out of commission for two days my family would end up on a reality show on TLC climbing over feces and empty pizza boxes.