Sick. Sick. Sick!

My kids, My life

For 5 days and 6 nights I have been surrounded by sick people.  Even worse, those people are people within my house.  And even worse, those people are the little people I hold so dear.  Which means I have been sneezed, cried, climbed, and puked on. Although one of my God given gifts is empathy I have a hard time having sympathy for sick people.  Especially when I am the one who is expected to jump every time someone says “Mommy.”  I had two babies a year and four days apart.  They are a month from being 2 and 3 years old but this week has been more draining and more taxing on my psyche and nerves than when Alex was a new born and Jackson was a year old.  I was blessed with sleepers (more or less).  So, I have never really had to go through all the sleepless nights or colicky stuff.  Thank God.

It is due to this past week I have seriously, and honestly been considering (along with my husband of course) about being done, fin Ito, finished, over, and completed having kids.  I have always thought one more child was in the future.  I have had the vision of my little brunette, brown-eyed little boy named Max.  But, after this last event I wonder I am cut out to be a mom of more than the two I have. And even those two, I wonder if they didn’t get a raw deal getting me.  I just feel like throwing myself through a window or fleeing like a thief in the night.  I am a woman who needs her sleep.  Ask anyone who knows me.  So, these nights of 2-3 hours of interrupted sleep for the past 5 nights is causing me to go a little batty (left eye twitches).

These little people, they don’t really know sick etiquette.  The idea of covering their mouth when they sneeze so Mighty Putty does not pelt from their nostrils?  Does not occur to them.  Even when Mom is only inches from their face.  Evidently, just crying seems to be the only thing they can do to tell you what is wrong.  Even when they can talk!  Jackson knows his planets, ABC’s, can count to 30, etc but try to get him to tell you what’s wrong when it’s 3 am and he is upset.  I just go down the checklist just like I used to when he was a baby.

Alex will wake up wringing wet but try and change her clothes and you will hear something of the same decibel as a fire truck siren.  Seriously, it sounds like I am beating the poor child.

Think anyone will take care of me IF I get sick?  I may just go to Mommy’s house LOL.  I guess we never get to clock out of this job huh? LOL.

1 Comment

1 Comment

  1. Courtney  •  Feb 20, 2009 @4:01 pm

    Poor Mandy. I really wish I could help you out more!!!

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  • Why I Write this Stuff

    My children called me Bobby when they were toddlers due to not being able to prounounce "Mommy." They are now 7 and 8 years old and I am Mommy. But my real name is Mandy. I just do this so I can keep in touch with the REAL me. Being a Bobby is a dream I thought I may never realize and I do not take it for granted. I homeschool (more specifically unschool) my two children and it's easy to lose yourself in the tasts of the day. I just want to make sure that after 19 or so years have passed,and my kids have moved out, I'm not stuck looking in the mirror and squinting in hopes of seeing Mandy again.