As you all know, I have been sick. In fact, I am not sure sick is a strong enough word. More like infected with the bubonic plague. Or, death warmed up. Something like that. I am pretty sure Night of the Living Dead zombies look better than I do right now, and I look a whole lot better today than the past few days. I was suffering from strep throat, a sinus infection and an ear infection. What can I say... when I get sick I do it right. I am on the mend though, so that's good news. Not just for me (I've spent the last few days writing out my last will and testament just in case I caught a few more infections), but for my family. Who knew that when mom got sick, the entire house came to a grinding halt?!?!?!
I give Mark credit (before you all start bitching and moaning about how I pick on him) for stepping up and taking on kid duty 100 percent. Will was already on antibiotics, so I wasn't too afraid of him getting sick, but I was scared to death of giving a 4 month old the trifecta of misery that I had. So, Mark went on Jack duty and has yet to come off of it. Likewise, my mom babysat the kids on Wednesday and as always, she was a Godsend. She did the boys' laundry and took care of a super crabby Jack and semi crabby Will all day while I wallowed in bed. So, they really helped and I will forever appreciate it since you can't just call in sick to motherhood (which sucks by the way... I have serious questions about the benefits of my current employment).
But.... holy cow! Today, I am about three quarters alive and I see the state our home is in and man... its a sad state indeed. There is no food in this house at all. Ok, so there's ice cream cake from the birthday party I had last Saturday and a Tupperware of grapes in the fridge that are working on becoming raisins as we speak. But, as far as milk... juice... sustenance of any substance... no. Nada. Zilch. And laundry? The boys are good, because my mom kept them in pjs and clean jeans, but, I am going to have to go commando if I don't get a load or two done before I take Jack to the doc this afternoon. And sick during the holiday season? No good. We are done Christmas shopping (insert curses, expletives and hateful remarks toward me here) so that is not the problem, but yesterday I came downstairs to a tower of boxes taller than me just chilling in the entryway of our house. Not put away, not opened... just stacking. A wall was being erected to quarantine me upstairs, I think. But I escaped before the stairs could be fully blocked off. The sad part is (as all of us online shoppers know) the 4 foot by 6 foot box only has a toy 6 inches tall in it, and the rest is stuffed with those air pillow things so that the matchbox car won't get tossed around the refrigerator box they shipped it in. So, I unpacked the boxes and managed to fit all contents into just one box, and we can get to the front door now! Hallelujah! A Christmas miracle.
I previously had no idea how important one person could be to the general running of the household... but now I know. And now I feel awful for any time my mom or any other mom ever wanted to crawl under the covers and hide for a few days, because let me tell you... it just can't happen. I know people who think that they can't call in sick to their jobs because they are JUST. TOO. VALUABLE. That company could not run without their presence. Life would fall apart. Stock markets would crash (oh wait, that's already happened). The human race would die out slowly and be replaced by machines a la The Terminator. But, I was never that person. I had no problem calling in sick (and if my old boss is reading this, I am sure she is nodding her head in agreement). If I was sick, I was sick at home. No trooper "go to work and be a hero" mentality here. I was good at my job, but totally replaceable and everyone would survive without me (although their lives would be a little less amusing, I like to think). But, for the first time I really feel like I have a place in the universe where I cannot be replaced. Life would stop if I disappeared from here... or at least laundry would. And without laundry, who could survive?