I am soon to be an empty-nester and I am sure that my new job has sick days. But up until now I was a stay at home mom. Some people think, “Well at least you get to rest and nap whenever you want to!” and sometimes they don’t just think it, they say it. When people would say this, I would think “I am doing it wrong because I don’t ever take a nap or rest or have a day off.” You see even when I would take family vacations, I would be clocked in and on over-time without pay. I loved being a stay at home mom and I am blessed to have been able to raise my kids. However, It was NOT easy and I DID NOT get days off even when I was sick.

A few of my most heroic days was when I was sick, I was a true Martyr and I am certain that I will get a better cloud than others because of these moments. (I don’t know how after life works…don’t act like you do though, cuz you haven’t been there!) Any way, back to my heroism. One day I went to say goodbye to my husband, it was crazy o’clock in the morning and he was flying out for a week or two. I went to sit up in bed except I couldn’t quite sit up. My head was pounding and I felt a little off. My husband came over and gave me a peck on my forehead and exclaims that I feel hot. I am inside of my body and I can tell you there is nothing “Hawt!!!” about this. I am in grave peril and will surely come to my demise and you know what? I fucking welcome it because I feel horrible!

His last words to me before he leaves is this “Get plenty of REST!”

I’m pretty certain I used all of my salty, filthy language in my head but what came out was incoherent or ineffective because he left anyway. I quietly hoped there would be a terrible storm that would prevent his plane from taking off, my wish didn’t come true. How does Prayer even work? I put my wish in and get nothing….then I am left to raise my kids alone with the grim reaper hanging off of my back for a week or two.

I hear my alarm go off and I bellow for my kids to get up, It sounds a bit like whisper/yelling and the words were muddled together. I remember thinking if they didn’t get up I would be ok with that because I was told to rest, by my loving husband.

The next time I open my eyes is when I am being jostled awake by my oldest and she says “Mom, we are going to be late!”

I open my eyes and they burn. I see my oldest’s beautiful face looming over me. I can see that she is worried and I am the adult, or at least that’s what I get paid for,…and by the way you get what you get at this point. I grab pants and out the door with all of my chipper children who are anxious to get to school. My youngest doesn’t go to school so she is less happy and I am sick so “No I don’t care if you take the entire box of fruit roll-ups in the car!” (I know honey, that there is no eating in the car, but sometimes you’re a dick and you leave me when I am on my death bed…so I don’t care if the seatbelt has jelly jammed in the clasp…use another one.) I get the kids to school and the entire time I am driving I was thinking ‘someone should actually not allow me to drive when I am sick because I feel like I am in a strange cartoon.’ But no one stops me and my kids get to school on time or whatever…I don’t know if they are on time or not…I don’t care…I brought them to brick buildings in the morning and to me that is a great success!!!

I bring my youngest home and I am ready for a good snuggle. I settle down on the couch.

“Can you get me some breakfast?” she asks and she’s adorable and deserves to eat.

“What do you want?” my mistake…shhhhh! I’m sick and there really are no decisions, it’s mostly autopilot from here.

“Eggs!” she says. “sunny side up!”

“How about a cup of cereal in the living room and watching whatever movie you want?”

“How about hardboiled eggs and I can play video games.”

“Hardboiled eggs and a movie of your choice.” I should have taken my husband’s trip because sick me is badass at negotiation.

“Ok.” She looks for a movie I look for eggs and we have one and I boil that sucker and keep my fucking mouth shut.

She puts on her favorite barbie movie and it is the nutcracker and my daughter stops it and says “I have to go put on my outfit.”

I know the drill and I’m sick and I really could care less what she comes down wearing. She comes downstairs in a leotard, tutu and ballet shoes…”no tights because this isn’t the real show!” she informs me and again I really just want that rest I was promised by my asshole husband, who clearly doesn’t know the plague when he sees it.

I hear a strange sound and I can’t quite place it because it is mixing with the nutcracker, my daughter informing  Barbie that she is doing it wrong and my ears that have filled with fluid. Then I hear the smoke detector go off.

Perfect, her egg is done!!!!

I boiled the water right out of the pan and the egg sort of looks a bit exploded and so I stick it in ice cold…I lie…it was tap cold water and it may not have even been cold. She looks at it when I serve it and asks “What happened to it?”

I respond with “I’m sick!”

She looks at me.

I look at her or the floor….or something…my memory is really shaky I am not sure what I was looking at.

She looks at her egg.

I look at her egg and it’s sad and I know it too! I can relate to this sad egg. I feel like this sad egg with it’s insides bursting out of the shell.

She looks at me again and says “I’m sure I will like it!” I appreciate this because this particular kid has thrown some doozy tantrums over the corner of her pop tart being broken and so I was glad that I didn’t have to battle her over this bad egg.

I go over to the couch and I feel both too hot and too cold at the same time. My Husband calls me to tell me that he made it to the airport and through security and I am resentful that there hasn’t been anyone on my side to prevent him from taking this trip. I think about all of the things to say to him and I am pretty certain I just say “I’m sick!” Which he hears as “Have a wonderful trip and don’t worry about me, because this is just the sniffles.”

Soon I am waking up to my youngest saying that the bus was coming. “Oh Shit, the Bus!” they won’t let my son off if no one is there to get him. I am in such a quandary and I feel like this is it. This is the make or break moment in parenthood. Do I get my youngest dressed and ready to run down there, or do I just tell her not to burn the place down and do my best to run down to the bus stop by myself. Lucky for me she had put her barbie heels on and was “READY-ish” I get her in the umbrella stroller and she buckles herself as I start running down there, umbrella taking turns on two wheels. I race down the hill to the bus stop and the bus driver smiles and says “I was about to drive away when I saw you running.” She then gets a good look at me and I assume that I look like a victim of some strange “We’ve found and contained patient zero” virus because she stops smiling and looks concerned for her own safety. She makes an excuse to close the door and peel out of there. I don’t care because this grim reaper thinks he’s hilarious be adding the extra hundred and fifty pounds to my back on the way up the hill to the house.

My son says that he has a LOT of homework. Of course he does. Luckily I can sit while he does his homework. I get the kids home and it is not long before lunch is supposed to be provided by the adult in the house. That unfortunately is me. I look for something easy to make them and I find a box of crackers and a jar of peanut butter and tell them that they can make themselves their own little tiny sandwiches. I drop the grim reaper over to the couch and lie down. The dogs are going in and out of the door every five minutes but my son is home and he can work the door, so now back to that rest that the awful stranger that sometimes shares my bed, that I clearly never knew, promised me.

My oldest comes through the door and she is ready to help. Thank God for my kids being easy keepers. My oldest makes soup for dinner and I crawl into my bed once the stove is off. Now that rest I was promised by that person that I remember used to live here. The kids all want to cuddle in mommy’s bed and they turn on American Idol to laugh at the bad singers trying out. I normally love this but tonight my ears are ringing and it now sounds like everyone is underwater and also the grim reaper is sticking sharp knives into my ear canals. I want to sleep but I am in so much pain. Finally my kids all have fallen asleep in mom’s bed and yet I can’t sleep because of the pain. I get up and try everything I could to reduce the ear pain, Tylenol, hot tea, heating pad, and everything short of shots of vodka. So as I was staring at the vodka bottle the phone rings and it’s my husband telling me that he had landed in England.

“You’re awake! I didn’t expect for you to answer!” he says in his jolly voice. I would have loved to hear from him if I didn’t have this terrible resentment of him leaving me when I clearly had some deadly virus. Doesn’t he know that I only have hours to live? No, he is selfish and is traveling to another country to provide for us which doesn’t actually sound that selfish but right now while I was wasting away, it just seems incredibly selfish because, What about me?

“I’m so sick. Can you please just come home now? I can’t do this by myself.” I beg.

“I just landed in England. I wouldn’t even be able to get home until the day after tomorrow.”

“Ok, do that!” I say,

“You will probably feel better by then. Just get some rest. I will call you later to see how you are feeling.”

I scream in my head only because I don’t want to wake up the children. I take a spoonful of honey because I am making poor choices and I go to bed. Finally something kicks in and I get some sleep. The next morning I have a bed full of sick kids and now I have to be the healthy one that takes care of the sick ones, but I’m not the healthy one either. How we made it is beyond me. I made soup and tea and we eventually were healthy again. Because I’m a rockstar and my children are a chip off the ole’ Rock, that’s why, and no thanks to that man who didn’t stick around to see that I looked the grim reaper in the face and said “NOT today, sir! I have children to raise!”

When my husband got home he has the virus and I take pity on him because i remember it well. I did want to bitterly leave him to take care of all of the children and  tell him to “Get some REST!” But I don’t because I still want that extra fluffy cloud. I’m a good person and I really think that’s how the afterlife goes… I should’ve asked the grim reaper when I had the chance! Damn IT!!!!

Until Next time 🙂

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