A big soft, fuzzy blanket. You know the kind, one that covers your whole body comfortably without being too weighty or too warm, just snuggly and oh so soft.
My favorite pillow.
A good book. Something easy and light, maybe Philippa Gregory – no, definitely Philippa Gregory. She has just the right combination of intrigue and scandal.
A bowl of chicken noodle soup.
A large mug of tea and honey.
Lounging on the couch or in bed enjoying all the above – that’s what I’d be doing on this no good, lousy, sick day …
IF (and that’s a mighty BIG IF) I didn’t have two sick children to care for as well.
That’s right, three out of the four people in our house are sick and on antibiotics. That’s seventy-five percent. That’s three quarters – only one-quarter away from a dollar. That’s more than majority. (Can you tell I used to teach elementary school math?)
Why can’t I just lie around, watching soap operas, eating bon bons all day? Isn’t that what stay-at-home-moms do? (For more on that topic, you should seriously read Her Bad Mother’s blog. She had someone “unfriend” her on Facebook for being such a huge disappointment, a stay-at-home-mom.)
As much as I would’ve loved to hide under the covers and not think about the twenty miles I’m scheduled to run in the morning, my children had other plans.
They went something like this
And then something like this
Just now, at the end of a very, long day I stood in the kitchen taking a drink of water. Bunder looked over to me from his prime Mickey Mouse Clubhouse spot on the couch and said, “Mommy, I love you with all a your hearts.”