Yep, my friends, sickness has come to the Chapman household. Despite all of my efforts, included but not limited to: stripping my child down first thing when she gets home from school, slathering ourselves with essential oils and generally keeping a reasonably sanitary environment, Trevor, Laila and I have all been sick this week. Lydia Kate...
Oh, you didn't know about her, blog world?... Eh... What's that you say? That I haven't updated you since April of LAST YEAR? Well. I've resolved not to blog about not blogging so let's just change the subject, whydontwe??
Ahem. As I was saying.
Lydia Kate, our precious little 6 month old darling, is the only one of us who has been spared. Let's hope that continues to be the case. We'd hate to see this little face without her usual smile.
So, the thing about being a mom is... There are no sick days. No calling in sick, no punching out, no rest for the weary. Yesterday, I literally felt like the walking dead, with walking pneumonia or walking flu or walking strep throat but, you get the idea... walking. When you're a mama, you just have to trudge on. The reality is that, when the baby wakes up (however old she is), you are compelled to respond to that call. It is really wonderful that God created mothers to be that way. It is a precious and exhausting, wonderful symptom of bearing a child. And what is also true... and scary... is that I'll never stop being a mom. I'll never stop responding. Thankfully, I have wonderful and amazing examples of this in my own parents. Yesterday, my mom and I had the following text interaction:
Mommy: "What are you doing for your symptoms?"
Me: "Oils, cough drops, water, tears of desperation..."
And, less than an hour later, my Dad shows up at my doorstep with immune boosting supplements, ready and willing to give me a break so that I could get a hot bath and a nap.
And then, last night, my darling husband let me sleep in the guest bed; that glorious, white, snuggly, soft haven of yummy (where the children can't find me and where I can't hear them) so that I could actually get some sleep while he did the dirty work.
Usually, I'm the Doer of the Dirty Work. I mean, I'm pretty good at it. I'm shameless when it comes to asking for a deal, a discount, a refund... and, when it comes to sleep deprivation, I seem to be able to tolerate it pretty well. But, last night, Trev took over in that department. I'm so blessed. And, today, he will come home to a "thank you" love note and a package of these goodies:
So, all in all, I guess my point is that there is no rest for the weary Mama. Unless you have a Nonna, a Papa Bear and a husband as awesome as mine. To those precious 3, this tired Mama says "Thanks a bunch. I love you. Now pass over those Oreos."
P.S. Dear reader, I truly do apologize for leaving you out of the loop. To make up for it, here is a picture of us when Lydia was about 10 days old. Now you can forgive me. Enjoy!