When parents get sick.

There is this thing that happens when a caregiver is sick. I am not just talking a little "man-cold" that you can kinda fight through and still somehow scrape by taking care of yourself and the kids and working. I'm talking actually down for the count. On the couch - pathetically wiping your nose, with a bottle of gatorade and the lucky bucket handy. The children SENSE it. Even if it doesn't seem possible, they get louder. More whiny. More needy. More angry. They find ways to light things on fire. Basically showing their entire arses, and I truly think it is because they just KNOW there ain't nothing you can do about it. I was down for a week after a procedure, and I was shocked these "children" were even mine. I am not saying they are always perfect angels, but it was like my sweetturds had been replaced by some sort of cross between dementors and a wildfire.

I really do try not to yell, ok? I am not talking 'gentle parenting never using the word "NO" around my children. But I TRY to stay grounded and think before creating any undue psychological trauma for my kids. But that week was like some kind of battle had torn through our entire house. My husband was battered and bruised, and had absolutely no manhood left. Pretty sure he would've (still) been in the fetal position under the stairs had I not intervened as much as I could. PJ ended up with meltdowns I only had nightmares of, and stitches in his face from running full speed and hurling his face at the couch - horribly miscalculating *prime* jumping distance. And T decided his new favorite activities included wrestling any living creature to be within 6 feet of him, refusing all food and sustenance except popcorn and yogurt melts, and breaking every toy I have ever bought. Even finding ones I never knew I bought and somehow obliterating those. (I am talking CARNAGE all over the floor. On the walls. On every surface just these poor mangled plastic pieces that somehow used to connect together to form a $30 toy that was marked down to $5 at a secondhand store because who can actually afford that sh*t.) My in-laws were on vacation - I know - horrible timing. Tell me about it. (Because my 3 favorite words besides "I love you" are "Grammie is here.")

Somehow we all fight through it and survive. Somehow miraculously everyone ends up sleeping at some point, and meals get made, and we keep going! (Notice I didn't say anything about dishes OR laundry. Remember, friends - clean and fed.) We lean on strength from outside sources, or each other, or strength sent truly from the Man Upstairs because there really just was no other explanation or option. We know the lawn eventually will be mowed, the dishes will get washed, the wounds will heal, and the sticky unknown substance on the floor will be mopped (did you notice what I still didn't include??) They will still grow and learn, and everything WILL somehow end up okay. Then - in my case - I can chuckle thinking about the insanity and chaos of it all because I know it is going to be a great post.

xoxo

Madi