Mothers are not supposed to get sick. Mothers are the spine in the family. They snuggle with the kids and keep them warm at night. They listen. Mothers go out food shopping. Keeping stock of what’s in the fridge, and like clock-work swoop into the supermarket and self check out with coupons and are back in time to be at the bus stop. They pick up the oldest at the high school. Comfort the youngest who was up the night before throwing up twice and changed the sheets each time. Dried off the remains as best as possible and sprinkled baby powder on the mattress. It works wonders. Keep it in mind. But this was not the work of a mother. It was me. I dropped off the young ones at their schools and picked up the middle one at the junior high since she was not feeling well. And then took the youngest to the Pediatrician. My wife wrote down the youngest symptoms. Like I wouldn’t remember them all. 103, complains of dizziness, throwing up. Bella woke up a few times in the middle of the night and would wrap her sweaty arm around me. Ali slept in Amanda’s room and Emma and Amanda slept in one bedroom. Joe slept in his room.
Cleaned – floors, windows and dishes, clothes, towels, sheets and and over and vacuumed the living room and our bed room. There is still a lot to do.
Mothers are not allowed to get sick. Ali was hit with the flu the week before and on Sunday we were in the emergency room. Her quota was up. Yesterday, she seemed better. She is getting better. Bella’s fever dropped down and Emma did not have a fever last night. I dropped off Amanda and Joe at the in-laws. The sick ones get to spend Election Day together.
I “worked” from home yesterday. The best I could. I had to take Bella to the doctors and held her since she was scared of a throat culture. Then we were off to the radiologists since they wanted to make sure her lungs were clear. They were. But she was frightened since she did not know what to expect.
I’m on the train. Took a run this morning and will open up the King book I’m reading. I really can use more sleep. I can, but I’ll get through it. Just like the sick ones. It won’t last.
I need to begin promoting Killer Commute. I need to see the contract. I want to sign it and send it back…