Alright, Alright!

So I get it. . . I totally suck at this blogging thing now. So much for my grand future as a mighty internet presence, mocking trends, establish chic, displaying my dazzling intellect for all the world to see.

Alright, so clearly I was never getting there anyway, but a girl can dream can't she? Well, I say she can if and especially if she has been cooped up with sick kids for what is nearing 173 hours. Yes, 173 hours. Translated into sanity, let's see, if you carry the one and subtract five, multiply by 2, yes that sounds about right. . . . you get COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY LOSING IT.

I yelled at a sick kid a little while ago, sent him to bed, even harassed him a ways down the hall. Yes, I'm very proud. I will say only this. . . every woman has her breaking point. Mine happened to be somewhere during hour 14 of screaming and wailing hysterics about a headache. Now to some it might seem like the child was in severe pain and I am a wretched excuse for a mother. Some might be right. But I'd like to add that the screaming increased whenever I ventured past the doorway. Coincidence? Instructions and gentle meditation to help ease him to sleep with a hunch that sleep is just about the only thing left that might help . . . . flailing, wailing, screeching. It has been heck of day.

Sedona started this little adventure last Sunday with fever, headache and the eventual vomitting. Jordan took a sympathy day on Monday and pretended to be sick with her all day. All the high maintenance without any of the actual ailing symptoms of a real sick person. And so it has gone back and forth all week. I even managed to get in on the fun and spent all of Thursday in bed. Hoo-hah!

Alright, clearly I've lost my mind. But maybe someone out there who has sick sick kids who refuse to take the necessary steps toward healing (e.g. sleeping, being quiet, closing your eyes when suffering from a headache) might know the crazy little place where I'm standing.

I remember a time when a little boy was my only responsibility. He'd get sick, I'd sit and hold him, rock him, cuddle him back to health. We doted. He healed. Life moved on. Ahhh if only there weren't 7,000 other things happening in and around this house and a screeching 9 yr old that doesn't quite fit completely in these achy arms of mine so that I might sit and cuddle for days. But there's that other kid who requires feeding and washing and hugging and loving too. Hmmm.. .. that's a little bit more complicated isn't it?

Ah well. . . I suppose my self absorbed ranting should draw to close at some point. So here's to a good night's sleep and a tomorrow.