Yes, There Is Luxury in Sickness

In motherhood, there are so many little pleasures that you don't appreciate until they are gone. Being able recuperate in bed from a sickness is one of them.

I have to sleep off my illnesses. For me, it is the only way to really get over stuff. Oh, and a good cup of tea. So when I got my yearly bout of bronchitis, all I wanted was some green tea in my favorite duck mug and sleep for at least a weekend. Sidenote: since when did illnesses become a yearly event to expect? There's Christmas, birthdays, Easter, vacations, and now...bronchitis? That tops the list of lame life experiences.

Anyhow, I am feeling horrible. I am coughing up unimaginably gross things, my head feels like a jackhammer is inside, and I cough non-stop. I know I need to go to the doctor to get drugs--and lots of them--but all I really want to do right now is to sleep. Sweet, sweet, dreamless sleep. I look horrible, too. My fever has alternated me from uncontrollably sweating to shivering, and I haven't changed out of my pajamas for a couple of days. My hair? Grotesque. And it is one of the rare times in my life where my vanity doesn't win out. I just don't care.

My husband, alarmed at how disgusting I was in every way, coaxed me into a bath and gave me some tea and got my bed ready. He promised to watch Mountain Child all day so I could sleep. My Mountain Man can really be sweet sometimes. I will have to remember that next time I get irritated with him. I was beyond happy: now my current fantasy can come true. I take a shot of NyQuil and not have do a thing else. This was a fantasy, mind you. And a fantasy it stayed:

8:30 a.m.: "Where are the diapers? I think that we're out!" I roll out of bed, glad that I am not yet asleep and get my husband set up with where the diaper supply is. I make a mental note that he needs to do more of these activities because it is sad that he doesn't even know where diapers are. I also give him a rundown of what the day's schedule should be and give him a chance for more questions. I am getttinnnnngggg...slllleeeeeepyyyyyy...

9:00 a.m.: I am asleep. For about thirty seconds. I hear Mountain Child screaming downstairs. I pull the covers over my head and decide that earplugs must be purchased at first available moment.

9:30 a.m.: Somehow, I manage to doze off even though Mountain Child is still throwing a fit. I now hear Mountain Man yelling at Mountain Child to quit doing something. I hate everyone.

9:45 a.m.: Things have quietened down and I sleep. Thank you, Jesus.

10:30 a.m.: They NyQuil is in full effect and I groggily notice that my door keeps on opening and closing. I don't care.

11:00 a.m.: I feel as if something is laying on my legs. I don't open my eyes.

11:05 a.m.: I can sense someone staring at me. I peel open one eye and see a pair of bright blue eyes smiling about a centimeter from my face. "HI!!! HIGH FIVE!!!" I then open both eyes and see that Mountain Child has decided to play the game, Empty My Whole Room Onto Mommy's Bed. There are toys, books, shoes, diapers, musical instruments, and God knows what else all over my bed. I heave myself out of bed, spilling half of the stuff on the floor. I stumble out the door and see Mountain Man downstairs, eating a sandwich and reading a book, as content as can be.

I walk down. Mountain Man puts down his book. "Hey. Did you have a nice nap? Are you hungry?" For a breif moment I had this vision of smashing his plate against his head and taking off to the nearest motel to sleep. Instead, I got some water, went back upstairs, and told my husband to take Mountain Child to the park...forever.

But now I can't sleep because the room is a mess. So I get up and put everything back in Mountain Child's room. I realize as I started to straighten the bookcases that being sick--or rather, being in bed sick--just isn't a luxury that I have anymore.

Life Observation: When men get sick, we make the house as quiet as a tomb. We clean up and fix them chicken soup with tea. We fluff their pillows. And it takes them forever to really get better and quit their whining. When we get sick, house gets messier, children are screaming, and there is always someone asking where the--fill in the blank--is. And we get better within hours because it is just not worth wallowing in our sickness because we will pay for it later.

Keep well, mommies.