Will and Jack are both sick today. They seem to be a little better than yesterday, but not great. There is coughing and hacking and snot. RIVERS OF SNOT. There is much more snot than sleep, and that is never good.
The playroom is trashed. I am sitting at my computer desk surveying the destruction much like a president who flies over a natural disaster wondering how to start the rebuilding process. But, unlike the leader of the free world, I have no relief team to come in and save the day.
I waged an epic battle with our prescription drug insurance provider today regarding Will's nose spray for his massive allergy problems. I lost the battle, and I am sure I will lose the war. The price is circa 200 bucks, and we have discovered that his allergies are year round. No breaks for the broke.
Jack is by far the most stubborn kid in the history of the world. He threw an unending tantrum last night about us leaving my parents' bedroom. He would rather scream and cry until he can't take a breath than give in and follow us out of the room.
These are my kids. They are stubborn, snot encrusted, and Will's jeans never fit because he somehow manages to outgrow them on the car ride home from the shops. But, today I read a children's book called "Tell Me About the Night I Was Born" by Jamie Lee Curtis, and I realized that I am so very lucky. The book had a line about how they saw the baby in the window of the hospital nursery and how could something so small make me smile so big? And really, that is the best explanation of these kids and my life. These guys can drive me to the brink of insanity and then circle it awhile until the traffic clears (and they never stop for directions on the way, either)... but when they make me smile, my whole heart smiles. And in those cloudless and sunshiny moments, I can't even remember a bad one.