Today is the fifth and five days late in a new post for 2015. So all of you with New Year’s Resolutions, take joy in that I am five days late in mine already. You are all five days into your resolutions. I am fine with it.
Currently all the boys and I are upstairs in the old farm house and all of us are working on something or another. I just pulled two fresh baked loaves of bread out of the oven and there is chicken noodle soup on the stove simmering.
That sounds all kind of homey, doesn’t it?
Here is the back story to all of this, so you are not under any delusions of my being perfect (and let’s just go back to the fact that it’s five days into January and I am finally writing a Happy New Year post.).
I have been sick as sick can be for days. I knew I was getting sick and I was pretty sure if I kept busy I could trick my body into not being sick. I feel I can trick my brain like that. But Saturday the boys were all saying I looked bad and by Saturday night I turned my feverish eyes over to my husband and said simply, “I am sick.”
I slept most of Sunday. And fretted how I would ever make it to Monday when we were back to the routine of school and work. At one point, as my mother in law and brother in law were in the living room with all the boys being sorely disappointed in the Lions (the game of which we do not speak of), I lay on my pillow with a huge wad of toilet paper under my nose to catch the snot pouring from it. I had long ago run out of any kleenex in the house and my nose was too sore to blow anymore and blowing my nose wasn’t stopping the snot anyhow.
Click the photo for a how to make your own Stroopwafel link!
Holding a book was too much effort and there was too much cheering (and then anger) over the LionsGameOfWhichWeDoNotSpeakOf so I began scrolling through my phone and catching up on the Cohagen Chronicles. It instantly cheered me. And then wonders of all wonders, The Farmers Wife began to text me about the Lions Game Of Which We Do Not Speak Of and she quickly deduced I was in dire need of hot tea and stroopewafels (which as she and I know have magical healing powers). Bless her. And she wasted no time informing my husband (via text) that he needed to chop chop on my behalf. He did not. She places all the blame for the Lions Game Of Which We Do Not Speak Of on him. Because, KARMA!
Which brings us to Sunday night when all I could eat was cream of wheat for my only meal of the day. My husband was getting sicker. S4 was sick and on the couch crying. And it was all I could do not to shake my fist at 2015 thus far.
Monday dawned cold. Like super cold. Like, all our suburban doors were frozen tight and S2 had to get in through the back door and then start the suburban and then wait for the doors to thaw enough to open by the boys crawling in through the back again. The temperature was only negative 11 windchill. We arrived to school late, but the teachers had pity on us. Bless them.
But with S4 sick it meant I was home with him and I was thankful, I have to admit. No worries about making it into work. I stopped into our local grocery store for frozen bread dough, frozen veggies, boxed chicken broth and three packs of kleenex. So S4 and I cuddled down into my bed and we slept soundly for hours. Hours.
At this point, I am nearly 48 hours without coffee.
And at my desk I can feel the windchill so all of us are upstairs where heat rises so our toes aren’t so cold.
And my husband, who is still sick and hasn’t gotten the sleep like me, just found out he has to stay overnight somewhere.
But I am trying to think of the positives.
All my boys are home tonight on this cold night and sick or not, I missed them all terribly today. (Big Mama understands how I feel about this.) We have fresh baked bread and chicken noodle soup (which is actually turkey noodle soup because I had a little turkey left from lunch on Saturday) for dinner. My husband will stay in a hotel and get uninterrupted sleep. And S4 is sitting in the chair next to me working on homework and feeling much better.
And I have this time to write my first blog of the year.
So, welcome 2015.
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