When Momma gets sick...

Ain't nobody happy.

I remember being sick before having children - how I would curl up in my PJ's in an empty house, with an empty brain, some fluids, painkillers and maybe bad soap operas on in the background simply to remind me it was still mid-day and not mid-night. How I could just think "it'll get done tomorrow" as I rolled over in my little sickness fog to fall back asleep.

Now, getting sick means having all the time in the world to revisit the endless lists in my head of all the things I'm not getting accomplished because I'm sick. Such as:

--Taking that exact day off as a "floating holiday" to complete Christmas and birthday shopping for the kids, only to come down with some debilitating stomach virus that has me trapped in my hot, dark bedroom furious that I'm not out shopping and enjoying the day by myself! *Note to self: change that day from "floating holiday" to "sick day" so I can try it again another day this month.

--Panicking every 20 minutes about what I'm going to do as an activity for the kids birthday party which is only 18 days away. And since I'm not a fan of goody bags, last year I had the kids color their own ornaments to take home with them, but all they asked on the way out was "Where's the goody bags?". Do I succumb to goody bag pressure?

--What color is Thursday at Alex's school? Does he need to find something purple to wear? And does Abby have gym if it's a 1/2 day?

--Can I eat something, yet? The thought makes me nauseous so I guess the answer is no. Plus what would I eat? I haven't got a can of soup in my house because I was supposed to go food shopping today and I'm sick!

--I need a hair cut before Thanksgiving. When am I going to squeeze that in now that I just lost a day and 1/2 to illness!

--I wonder what the weather is like outside. I hate not knowing the weather forecast. Humph.

That's right. When Momma gets sick nobody is happy - well at least Momma ain't happy. Maybe the rest of them did just fine.

Maybe Daddy made them scrambled eggs the first night, and took them out to eat the next. Maybe he made them laugh, gave them showers and got them ready for school no problem.

Maybe they poked their little heads in my room to say I Love You Mommy, before bed time and actually meant it. Maybe they made little special gifts out of scraps of paper and left them on the bureau and my son named one of them the "Get Better Blue Ant" because he wasn't sure what he made but knew it was blue and knew I was sick.

Go figure. They were pretty happy when Momma was sick...