Ecch. My Kids Are Sick. Like Gaross Sick.

8 Feb

MjAxMi05ZWIyYzlkZmYwYTRjZTVmOkay, so you know you’re up early when you’re having a grilled Salmon caesar at 9:27 in the morning. This might have been lovely, had I been on vacation. In Hawaii. But, I’m not in Hawaii. And by saying, “not in Hawaii”, I mean, I’m home, with two sick children under the age of 8, who have alternated hours of waking up throughout the night to not only let me know how miserable they were, but to simultaneously, literally, cough INTO my mouth while telling me. Who knows what went on when I actually dozed off for an hour after I finally succumbed and let both of them crawl into bed with me. Curled up on each of my sides, nuzzling into me with their hot, snotty, breath. Seriously. I could smell the sick.

Needless to say at 4:42 a.m. I was so over trying to get any rest, I loosened myself from their grips, super stealth like, hoping that they don’t wake up, cause I needed an hour to just be alone and have a cup of coffee and a muffin, alone. Did I mention I needed to be alone? Just for a minute. And now that I think about it, it’s not even so much that I needed to be “alone”, because I’m alone when they go to school, I just mean, I needed some time where I wasn’t being clung to, asked for something, sneezed on, coughed over, kicked, kneed, elbowed, breathed on, clawed at and then mediating between the two who are angry at the other for coughing on each other, over me. I needed a minute.

And now I sit on the couch with them both, watching a movie. We’ve had breakfast, played Uno, Club Penguin, Sorry, painted and made homemade play dough. And it’s not even NOON yet and my body has that tired feeling, like someone slipped me too much nighttime cold medicine; and I would give a TOE if I could just nap. Alone. For like an hour. But, I have 8 more hours until they go back to bed. 8. EIGHT hours. 8.

I was okay with it all until I logged into Facebook and see the posts of all of my “friends” hiking, going to baseball games, snowboarding, having mimosa’s at brunch. Or when I turned on the Winter X games? Dude. I can’t form a sentence and these women are doing flips on a board. I want to do that.  Can I rewind back to when I was 15 and chose a sport to play during High school. I want to be at a blackjack table in vegas with a giant Bloody Mary, stack of chips and super hot dealer flirting with me and I don’t care that he’s super gay cause he likes my shoes and we are going to be besties forever.

But I’m so NOT in Vegas right now. I will try to be still. Mentally I mean, because I can’t actually physically move with the hot, sick breath coming at me from both sides of the couch and I will just try to be grateful that we are able to just… well, just be. Because honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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