The Stoic and his Charlie, Chaplin that is...

Taking a break from the bed to sit at the computer--baby steps for this sick momma.  A change of scenery--flexing my muscles--yes, this takes energy for me.  Inhaler (check) hot tea (check) stocking cap (check) blankets (check) vapor rub (check) clear mind (not so much)...

But I need something to "do" be it just sweat, ramble and muse to myself...

Yucky week and weekend.  Many lessons learned.  One being, do not leave a fever unattended for a week (rather stupid).  Two being, I could very well die in the middle of the night without my husband ever noticing.  One more unsettling than the other.  And three, my kids are extraordinary (well, I already knew that one--but reaffirmation is always encouraging).

Friday, 3 a.m., my body woke itself with violent shaking and ironically, with all that shaking, I could not move.  I was soaked in sweat and knew I needed to do something (had that much going for me), but couldn't move.  I could, after a bit, roll into Marty, but could not get him to wake up.  After attempting this several times he did manage to get irritated and tell me to be quiet because he had to go to work tomorrow (all of which he doesn't remember)--just my luck, teacher in service and first day back after Christmas break--so me and the boys home alone with their momma sicker than sick--awesome.
 
Managed to roll out of bed, literally (thud), and drag myself to the living room--I just wanted to get warm--so, so cold.  Got the fireplace turned on, piled on blankets and slept on the bricks.  Woke up to bruises all over my body.  Must have thrashed around a bit more than I remember.  Explained to my husband that I would be going to the doctor and the boys and I wouldn't be having the fun mommy day we had planned.  He called as we were leaving for the doc (so thankful to get in right away that morning--LOVE our Andrea!!!) to see if he could drop off one of Griffyn's friends to play for the day.  Clearly not getting it.  It's a good thing technology has not progressed so far so that we can slap someone through a phone, because that would have left a mark.
 
It was enough to get myself into the shower--which was necessary after sweating through pj's twice--and my amazing Max stepped into that big brother role so effortlessly, as he always does--getting his little brother his breakfast "no, you can't have candy, Griffyn, do you want milk on your cereal or just plain, what shirt do you want to wear?".  What would I do without that kid?  We pile in the car and we're off to our fun visit that ended up being much more eventful than I ever anticipated.  Thank God there is a sucker basket upon departure.  The boys earned them!

Packed office.  Apparently there's a bunch of crap going around or something.  The boys all plod on back there with me.  Mommy's sick.  Jeez, mommy's really sick.  You need an inhaler.  Let's get you something now.  You need a shot.  It's going to be in your bottom.  My kid's eyes got pretty wide at this point.  Then antibiotic, which should kick in in about three days.  And you need to stay in bed.  For real.  I'll call your husband if you need me to.  What time does he get home?  Like I said, LOVE our Andrea!
 
Nurse comes in with the needle (and it's really not IN your "bun bun", as my youngest says, more towards the top) and that sucker burns and just knocks me out.  For realz, people.  Lie down, 30 minutes--not a problem.  Eyes close, and I just feel so bad for my boys--who's therapy bills are mounting by the second at this point.  In and out of this burning weirdness, I hear their sweet voices and see Griffyn snuggling up to Max, "See dot a sot in her bun bun?"  "Yes, Griffyn, she'll be okay."  I hear Griffyn get up to come around and look at it, so I ask him if he wants to see thinking it will dispel any horrid image he may have in his head.  "Do you have a band aid, Momma?".  I tell him, yes (at least I think I do) and fall back in semi-sleep.  I feel him get up on his tippy toes and kiss it.  "You dot a dood one, Momma.  It's Deorge.  It not a baby one yike Elmo".  Oh good.  Curious George on my butt is huge a relief.  I was afraid it was something embarrassing like Elmo.  He goes back to cuddle with Max.  Even in delerium, the kid cracks me up.

"What if see has to doe poop?  Yike a BIG one!" If I didn't feel like puking, I would have laughed. "Griffyn, that's gross!" is all Max says without further attention to that matter.  Fair question, G, fair question.  "See yooks tinda dead."  "Griffyn don't say that!  She just got a shot in her bottom and it hurts really bad!  Like a thousand times bad, so she's just sleeping and will have to rest today, okay?"  Max, at this point sounds like he's trying to convince himself just as much as G and I just want to get up and give them both a BIG hug and all I can mumble is "I'm sorry" which goes completely unheard.  Maybe I just thought I said it.

"Wewwl, who wiwll do all da mommy fings?  Yike weed me my Desus stowies and sing me my songs and make me my snacks and..." and then he got really sad and was starting to cry so Max says, "I know how to do all that stuff, Griffyn".  "Dat's wight."  Griffyn says, "You tan weed."  Then it's quiet for a little bit.  "An wiwll you wattch my favowit moovies wif me too and tuddle me?"  G asks.  "Yes, Griffyn, I will".  "Even da ones dat div you nightmares?" (G's a big Tim Burton cartoon fan--Max, not so much), "Yes, Griff, even the ones that freak me out"...

And little hot tears start going down my face and my heart is about ready to explode--not from fever or over dose of ibuprofen or Excedrin migraine this week--but out of immense love for these two.  Because out of all the mistakes I have made and continue to make in this life, dammit, if I can teach them one thing, it's that we take care of each other.  Let me say that again.  We Take Care Of Each Other. 

My biggest fear is that they don't see that enough in this family.  I have taken care of myself for the greater part of my life--I didn't change my own diapers--but the rest I can take credit for--the good, the bad, and the ugly--I had to learn it all on my own.  As a momma, I don't want my kids to feel any part of what I felt growing up.  It is also not something that comes naturally to my husband at all and something I haven't asked of him because I was used to doing it on my own--and didn't think I deserved any better.  I did, however, after having two children at some point think it would come (I was just tired, quite frankly) and wanted it to come but was too proud to ask.  My light bulb moment came when a friend of mine who had been battling cancer for 18 months messaged me offering to help me when I was sick and she knew Marty was going out of town again.  She had just had stitches taken out after having surgery and couldn't even put her arms up over her head.  I had a horrible case of the flu and strep and Marty was going out of town for the weekend for a football game.  She offered to come get the boys for a few hours so I get get a little rest.  Epiphany and pride gone--and for the first time in 15 years of our relationship, I didn't give a crap if he felt it in his heart or not--I told him to call his mother and let her know he wasn't going to be going to the football game--he'd be staying home to take care of his sick wife--his family.  This same amazing woman and friend just offered to send pizza or what ever we wanted over for dinner this weekend.  It is so nice to feel cared for, isn't it?  It meant the world to me.  Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Nicole, for always being you and for teaching me to be a better me!  That old me is definitely gone.  I do deserve more, and not necessarily more--but just the basics of humanity--and so do my kids.  They deserve to see a family be a family--and Marty did a fabulous job today.  Thank you, honey.  I appreciated it so much.  And that's not just the fever talking!
 
Back in the doctor's office, I opened my eyes to make sure that Griffyn knew his mommy was really livin'.  He got up and gave me lots of kisses and kept asking me every second if my "bun bun" was okay (he still is actually--and truthfully, that sucker makes your butt sore--just so you know).  My boys are thoughtful, loving, sweet boys, and they know how to take care of each other and this momma and their friends and the rest of the world, for that matter.  The rest of the day, Max brought me water and checked on me, kept G quiet (he just wanted to snuggle with me so badly and couldn't help but come in and beg for cuddles), and made lunch (they had microwave popcorn and bananas--not bad, I'd say).  And I have never been a prouder momma.  This is what being a family is all about. 

And this year is going to be a new year (hopefully a healthier one too, but taking it all in stride as it seems that lots of sick junk is just hitting everyone--I check facebook and suddenly don't feel so alone in my cootie capers!).  We all have choices.  For some reason, I have never let myself fully grasp that or feel that I have that privilege.  My doctor had to even tell me that.  We have choice.  Not just the people who treat us like crap ;)--we all have choices--and this year, there will be better choices--I am not trapped. 

I may not have the choice as to whether I physically feel like crap right now, but I do have the choice as to whether or not I emotionally feel like crap.  God doesn't want that for any of us.  And yes, we can treat people with grace and love and mercy and forgive, but we do not need to let them trample all over our pearls repeatedly...  And I am hoping, in some respect, that this creates better health for myself as well.  Thanks again to Nicole for the pizza offer and for always offering to help out--as I don't have that often--from the over ten crowd.  It was medicine for my heart today.  You, who have known pain and sickness to a far greater extent than anyone.  Bless you! 

Rambling, rambling as Griffyn watches his Barbie Princess and the Pop Star (his new favorite movie--the tunes are pretty catchy) and Marty dishes up Fizz ice cream for the boys.  Hoping to sleep.  And ready to wake up and feel better tomorrow!  Peace, love, and bun buns! (just had to say it one more time!)  It is rather fun.  Come on, give it a whirl.  You won't be able to stop either :)!