Fortunately, like Margie, I have not been sick (yes, knocking on all
kinds of wood here), though my heart goes out to my fellow wranglers. I hope
they get over their creeping crud soon!
It’s probably for the best that I don’t get sick very often. While our
culture pokes fun at men being
big babies when it comes to having a cold, that’s
not the case at my house. I’m the biggest
baby of all when I have a cold, or worse. I look at it this way: if I don’t
feel sorry for myself, who will? Hey, mom’s head hurts, her throat is sore, her
nose is stuffed up, yadda yadda, but why can’t she still make us dinner, help
with schoolwork, tell us where she hid the cookies, listen to our outlined
detail of the minecraft game we’re going to create when we’re grown up, can I have
another apple, do I have to take a bath, the kitties did the cutest thing just
now and I’m going to tell you all about it, where are my shoes, when I wrap the
blanket around my shoulders it looks like I have a cape, Mommy why did you go
to bed so early…
My household is usually a loud, barely-controlled chaos on a good day.
When I’m sick, the chaos doesn’t change. The show must go on, as they say in
the theatre world, and the show which is my household must also continue. So, when
I don’t feel 100%, there isn’t as much sympathy coming from others as I would
like to see. Hence, the self-pity. Which usually leads to sulking. Which leads
to resentment. Which leads to crabbiness. Which leads to Mommy stomping off to
bed in hopes of speeding the recovery time. Hey, I never said I was mature
about it.
So, yes, it is probably best that I don’t get sick very often. Because
I want to help with schoolwork and dole out cookies and hear about the latest
minecraft endeavor and watch the cute kitty antics and see the blanket-cape…
Because these are the things which make me happy.
For this reason, (and unlike my fellow wranglers) I don’t have any favorite
things to do when I’m sick, unless you count “be miserable,” “feel sorry for
myself,” and “count the moments until I’m well again.” I'm not saying they enjoy being sick. Perhaps they are simply more productive than I am when under the weather. How can I be productive, when I'm so busy amassing self-pity?
So, I'm off to pop a vitamin C tablet and wash my hands. And I wish everyone a healthier week!
Oh my gosh, the memories you bring back! I have spent half of this sickness journey moaning (and moaning...and...never mind) because I've been sick more since November than I've been since the 60s when I would become ill on demand for the purpose of skipping school. All I've really needed is for my family to move back home and remind me I don't have time for this crap. Problem solved!
ReplyDeleteGreat post, Ava. And you are so funny!
I don't know, Liz... the opportunity to waller in self-pity is enticing!
DeleteYou know, it is, but did you get the part where no one listens? Because they don't. :-)
DeleteOh, baby! You crack me up! Did you ever remind me of what it used to be like here, even though I only had one kid. They do have a tough time when Mom is off the rails, don't they? Now, I'm spoiled--I get lots of sympathy and Husband graciously takes over for me. But I still hate feeling this way and I'm so grateful to be on the mend now. I also don't have time for this crud--there's work to be done and books to write. Hugs to all the ailing Word Wranglers out there and here's to healthy 2016!
ReplyDeleteGlad to hear you are on the mend!
DeleteYour house sounds like my house! So glad the crud has (so far) missed you, Ava! Keep on popping those vitamin C pills!
ReplyDeleteHaving kids under roof just automatically makes for chaos, doesn't it? Keeping my fingers crossed that all the Wranglers get healthy and stay that way for 2016!
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