Day 1: I'm all like, "I have a tickle! Good thing this is your last day off for a week, my darling husband because I think I'm getting sick (smiley face). I'm kind of tired. But feeling good we got to spend out time together healthy as a family. Love love love. Oh wait....you have to go back to work. Shit."
Day 2: I am obsessed with my neti-pot and eating spices. I look scary and I already smell. Just ask my landlord who did a pull back of several steps when she came to talk to me about something or another (who knows what). Yep, she looked up on her approach, saw my sickening face, maybe smelled me rotting, and paused before talking a few very large steps back. "Yes, it's best not to get too close", I said. "I'm kind of sick". And by "kind of sick" I meant that I wasn't sure I would live through another day. Such is the life of a stay at home parent who finds herself sick, at home, alone, with two healthy children under 4 years-old. Sweet Jesus and Oh, man. This. This is what that poor woman rolled up on. I can't blame her. My kids might have tried to leave with her but I'm not talking about that, OK?
I spent the rest of the day wandering aimlessly through the house and stacking things.
I was having a heart to heart with Pants about why he used the Kermit the Frog to hit his sister, I was breaking through. I was reaching him. Even in my drugged-up and sweaty state he was HEARING me. There was a dang lesson and this kid was learning it, man!
That is until Plum rounded the corner looking like this...
And I laughed so hard that I cried. Stunned, both kids stared at me. Mama had jumped, face first, into the deep end. They had no idea what to think. So they did what kids do when they don't know what to do. They joined up. They laughed with me. We laughed for a good few minutes all heaped together on the kitchen floor. It was adorable. All of us lumped together and giggling. Someone should have been taking pictures of it. It was that cute. I thought it was over. I thought I had eek-ed out a win. A crappy win but a win none the less. Until Plum rose up, collected her laughter, picked up that Kermit the Frog and went after Pants with a fire I have ne'er seen in all of my days.
And it all began again.
I stood up, dusted myself off and wandered aimlessly back to the playroom where Plum had Pants pinned behind the Little Tykes kitchen. "Help, mama! Help!", he implored. I haphazardly snatched that Kermit from Plum's hands and began maniacally talking to the frog. "Kermit? What is the dang matter with you? Do you need to go sit up on the fridge and think about what you have done here?", I scolded. I saw the two kids still as statues, watching me. "Kermit? Is it ever ok to hit your brother?", I asked. I brought his froggy lips to my ear, "What? I didn't hear you. Plum? I can't hear Kermit. Is it ever ok for Kermit to hit Pants?" "No, mama", she said. And she walked over to offer her apologies to Pants. I might have been in a cold medicine induced haze, but I still had it.
And all was well for a short time in Pants-Land. Bliss.
For about 10 minutes.
Day 5 is tomorrow. Feel free to throw out some newborn unicorn tears into the night tonight for us. Tomorrow, I can feel it, is gonna go much better. Right? RIGHT!?!?!? At the very least I think that I might be done with the crying. That's something.
So tell me about how you handle sick days with the kids. Because obviously I'm gonna need a better game plan for next time. xo, Mama Pants