Everyone is home sick today. The big kids have a cold with a nasty cough and fever. The Little Miss has a different bug, and has been throwing up for the past 48 hours. I have what Little Miss Sunshine has; Sir Monkeypants is threatening to come down with what the Captain and the Gal have.
On the plus side, I’m getting very good at getting barf out of the carpet.
I spent almost all weekend searching for more stuff to wash. Every hour or so I’d have a set of barfy clothes that needed to go in, and I quickly ran out of other dirty stuff to throw in with them. I was all, “Are you done with that shirt? Oh look, there’s a small dot of apple juice on it, Quick, take it off so I can wash it.” Or maybe, “Do you need to wash your face? Here’s a towel…and another one…and you better use this third one, too…oh look, more laundry, good!”
These are the dog days of motherhood, for sure — days when you know you’re doing to spend a ridiculous amount of time watching Treehouse, just lying on the couch or occasionally changing the load of laundry, trying to survive. But you know, this really is what I signed up for when I decided to become a mom. It’s not exactly A+ mothering, but a day like this is a day when my kids really need me — for comfort, for nursing, and to clean up the vomit.
It’s not glamourous, but it’s good to be needed. And really, what could be better than the four of us curled up together on the couch in front of Curious George? If not for the chorus of coughing, you might think we were having a special treat of a day, a work-free day when we can all just cuddle and enjoy each other’s company.
(Except for those times when everyone makes a run for it to avoid being barfed on.)