Yes! It's that time of year! The trees are almost bare, the temperature is falling (though not very far at the moment), and people everywhere are decorating their homes with tissues. Tissues? Huh?
Yes, doggone it - it's time for the first version of bubonic plague to hit the Philadelphia area, and my whole family has it. We are going through cold medicine, cough syrup and tissues like crazy. Even Costco can't keep up with the amounts needed to serve this group. And whose job is it to go to Costco tomorrow in the pouring rain and load up once more on sneezing, hacking and sniffling supplies? Mine, of course!
I also am under orders to get more soup, and I think it might be time to make a huge pot of chili. Maybe that way the germs can be scorched out of existence. I did concoct a huge pot of chicken/vegetable/pasta soup yesterday, but that has all disappeared along with the very garlicky bowl of hummus (made that this afternoon!) and just about every kind of cracker I might have on hand. The fruit juice supply is almost depleted, and I've run out of lemons for the many cups of tea being ingested. Oh, and I probably need tea bags.
This is one part of marriage and motherhood I have never completely understood. Why, when the ills of the universe have descended upon my household, am I the one selected by some higher power to take responsibility for feeding and soothing the rest of the brood? It never gets put to a vote. I have not seen a single show of hands, nor a ballot box. It all comes down to a severe case of "mom'l'doit" syndrome, and I have fallen for it hook, line and sinker.
If another member of my family has a sniffle, and I am running a fever of 110 and bleeding out both eyes, I will drag myself to the car and the pharmacy to see to it that enough tissues are available. The only break I can remember in the last 37+ years of this family's existence was last summer, and literal, when I broke my foot, had it in a cast, and wasn't allowed to drive. I was still somehow expected to create miraculous healing in my household, even though I couldn't leave the living room. I did make up a few chants just for the hell of it, but they consisted mostly of curse words.
Sadly, the foot healed remarkably well, and I soon was back to my existence as family healer. Frankly, for the level of trust my family hands to me, I am surprised the neighborhood hasn't started lining up at the front door. No, I know my little group - they won't tell anyone for fear of losing even a second of my dedicated services.
So, tonight I sit here, exhausted yet awake, listening to the choruses of coughing coming from the various bedrooms around me. I should be sleeping, but my clogged head won't yet allow it.
Tomorrow will bring one to two inches of rain, more coughing and blowing, lots of aches and pains, and a trip for Mom to the local "big box" store. The big boxes will be of Kleenex or Puffs, fruit juices (with and without arsenic!) and soup or chili supplies. At least I will be treated like some level of hero when I arrive home from my adventure, and when I'm done putting everything away and/or cooking up a storm, I will find a place to lie down, and stay put.
And then, with a healthy dose of blatant sarcasm, I will wish everyone a happy cold and flu season!
Yes, doggone it - it's time for the first version of bubonic plague to hit the Philadelphia area, and my whole family has it. We are going through cold medicine, cough syrup and tissues like crazy. Even Costco can't keep up with the amounts needed to serve this group. And whose job is it to go to Costco tomorrow in the pouring rain and load up once more on sneezing, hacking and sniffling supplies? Mine, of course!
I also am under orders to get more soup, and I think it might be time to make a huge pot of chili. Maybe that way the germs can be scorched out of existence. I did concoct a huge pot of chicken/vegetable/pasta soup yesterday, but that has all disappeared along with the very garlicky bowl of hummus (made that this afternoon!) and just about every kind of cracker I might have on hand. The fruit juice supply is almost depleted, and I've run out of lemons for the many cups of tea being ingested. Oh, and I probably need tea bags.
This is one part of marriage and motherhood I have never completely understood. Why, when the ills of the universe have descended upon my household, am I the one selected by some higher power to take responsibility for feeding and soothing the rest of the brood? It never gets put to a vote. I have not seen a single show of hands, nor a ballot box. It all comes down to a severe case of "mom'l'doit" syndrome, and I have fallen for it hook, line and sinker.
If another member of my family has a sniffle, and I am running a fever of 110 and bleeding out both eyes, I will drag myself to the car and the pharmacy to see to it that enough tissues are available. The only break I can remember in the last 37+ years of this family's existence was last summer, and literal, when I broke my foot, had it in a cast, and wasn't allowed to drive. I was still somehow expected to create miraculous healing in my household, even though I couldn't leave the living room. I did make up a few chants just for the hell of it, but they consisted mostly of curse words.
Sadly, the foot healed remarkably well, and I soon was back to my existence as family healer. Frankly, for the level of trust my family hands to me, I am surprised the neighborhood hasn't started lining up at the front door. No, I know my little group - they won't tell anyone for fear of losing even a second of my dedicated services.
So, tonight I sit here, exhausted yet awake, listening to the choruses of coughing coming from the various bedrooms around me. I should be sleeping, but my clogged head won't yet allow it.
Tomorrow will bring one to two inches of rain, more coughing and blowing, lots of aches and pains, and a trip for Mom to the local "big box" store. The big boxes will be of Kleenex or Puffs, fruit juices (with and without arsenic!) and soup or chili supplies. At least I will be treated like some level of hero when I arrive home from my adventure, and when I'm done putting everything away and/or cooking up a storm, I will find a place to lie down, and stay put.
And then, with a healthy dose of blatant sarcasm, I will wish everyone a happy cold and flu season!
love the with or without arsenic part..oh those sweet memories...of a houseful..even with the many demands of motherhood..I adore it...as i see, you do too.! Have a sniffle-free holiday, my friend...and keep on writing! Joy to Motherhood!
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