When a mom is sick . . .
We have all heard, read, know, understand and commiserate with the concept that moms don't get sick because they can't be sick since they have too much to do.
Well, I'm sick. The not-so-good-feeling started Saturday. We had two activities before lunch that required driving, prep and different outfits for the three girls in this house (me and the twins). G and Chris were out of town for the weekend so it was our show. After our lunch baby shower (which was so incredibly nice and special to be a part of and I wouldn't have missed it no matter how I felt), we came home and I couldn't get into bed fast enough for a nap.
A nap that lasted three hours. While my girls napped, woke up, played, snacked and watched TV. Yeah, I slept. It was the kind of nap that was too warm and not comfortable. I wrote it off as sick sleep. You know that sleep. It's sleep, but not real sleep. Sleep that lasts a while and certainly helps, but just doesn't knock out the tiredness. Sick sleep. I needed it and it helped me push through the evening, yet it didn't really help my achy, feverish self.
Yes, I was home with the girls by myself this past weekend, but that wasn't the hard part. Yes, I had planned really well for a fourth part Sunday evening because the girls spent the night at my parents' house. Yes, I dropped them off and couldn't even think of eating dinner with my parents because the thought of putting greasy pizza in my mouth just made me, well, sick. And, yes, I ate a nice little plate of cheese and meats, which in the end was not a smart idea because, remember, I'm sick.
Yes, I slept alone in my house and woke up feeling draggy and not so hot. Yes, I moved slowly, but made it to work. And, yes, I came home early that day -- to a house full of my people because G and Chris were home.
Yes, I am sick. Yes, I am tired. Yes, I didn't go to work today and tried to uncomfortably sleep. Tried for the sick sleep (with a husband having to get ready to get out the door and go to coaches' school -- yeah, the summer is over) and just couldn't.
I did just the minimum around the house today and when you have twin seven-year-old girls and a 19-year-old son that minimum is similar to the Army's message of 'done more before 9 a.m.' than most. Meals, check. Laundry, check. Dishes, check. Flushed, feverish, achy and tired, check.
Poor me. It could be worse. I'm not so sick I require a hospital visit (but I do have a doctor's appointment Thursday morning). I'm able to walk. I have the Internet which means finishing up my Nordstrom anniversary sale shopping, San Diego trip planning and back to school backpack ordering.
Also, I have the motivational words to get aforementioned son out of bed and on his way to register for the fall semester of school. I think I've said 'make sure the hours transfer' over 100 times. I've also said 'get a meeting with an advisor' too many times to count. Oh, and, I've said 'be sure to tell the advisor you are planning to transfer to Sam Houston State or Texas State in the spring' 3000 times. I want those hours we are paying for (by the way, soooo much less than what we paid last year) transfer and count toward the criminal justice/forensic science degree my son is planning to earn by 2019.
Let's see, my fourth part this past weekend was about Internet shopping and vacation planning, cheese eating, pulling together an at-home spa day for the girls (thinking the honey and coconut oil scalp treatment would aromatherapically -- not a word, I know -- heal me) and watching Netflix. Hey, that is a pretty good fourth part. With a fever, fitful sleep and aches, I didn't fare so badly.
Sick sleep does count as sleep. Time by myself in the evening does count as a fourth part.
And, my son going up to his fall campus and getting his application straight and advisor appointment set counts as figuring out his future. Which gives me one less thing to think about during a fourth part.
Bully for me. (I watched Parks and Rec on Netflix).
Knocking down that AC to an all-time low and taking some Tylenol PM to help with the aches counts as tonight's fourth part.
Bully. Bully all around.