It started with a tickle, and then it became a sniffle, and then it became a stuffiness in my face.
I did what I always do: I stomped on it with a tablet of Airborne, fizzled into cold water and guzzled down before I walked Kyle to school.
It stayed away most of today.
Or did it?
What is more likely is that it curled up into a silent, threatening coil and waited, allowing me the illusion that I had escaped its poison.
But this afternoon – after the pickups and the dropoffs and the carpooling and once we finally tumbled into the house, laden down with construction paper Valentine crowns and lunch boxes and jackets – a chill had crept into my body and with it a growing weariness that was not explained away by lack of sleep or over-drinking.
Because I don’t do that anymore.
Often.
I made some peppermint tea and I snuggled with Brady on the couch and let him and Kyle watch too many episodes of LEGO Ninjago in a row and I tabled this evening’s dinner plan in favor of leftovers and microwaved hot dogs. But the weariness became fatigue and now I know it for sure.
I’m getting sick.
And so I anticipate the cold’s acceleration, knowing that throat-soothing lozenges are on the way, and then night time cough syrup, and fever-reducing pills. Thoughts of these remedies rocket me back in time to countless episodes of being felled by the cold or flu.
Rumpled pajamas, worn for days. That sick feeling in your sheets. The shivering. The inability to get out of bed to make soup. Wanting my mommy.
My mother used to bring me canned chicken noodle soup in the flat, wide bowls from her china. She’d serve it with saltine crackers on the side, and I would lay on the couch in the living room, too sick to play but happy to have stayed home from school. I would watch the Price is Right and cartoons and other daytime television shows. There was no plethora of on-demand programming or DVR’ed favorites. I had to get up to change the channel, so I didn’t.
But it was all okay because my mother was there to take care of me. I wonder if she sighed a heavy sigh when I got too sick to go to school, thinking of how my presence was disrupting her plans for the day, knowing that she would have to rearrange her schedule. That’s the first thing I do when one of my children starts to sniffle or cough. “You’re fine,” I say, mind racing through my to-do list, hoping a dose of medicine will quell the symptoms long enough to get him through the school day.
But when one of them is truly too sick, I remember how I felt as a child in that situation: vulnerable but comforted and safe and loved.
None of this kills the virus that’s taken residence in my head and my tired muscles. I shy away from the children, not wanting to pass on the germs. But if they do make the leap and cause a school absence, Mom will be here sharing the tissue box, at least.
Inspired by the Wednesday Writers Workshop at Midlife Bloggers. Topic: sense memory.
Wow! When we sat together on that plane back from BlogHer, I knew I liked you, but I didn’t realize what an incredible stylist you are. Reading your posts always pushes me to go further in mine. You are an incredible writer, lady…..and if you’re wondering where I was this weekend–it’s a long cold that doesn’t end quickly. See you when we’re both healthy again
What a lovely post. It’s funny how we’re oblivious to our parents being real people when we’re growing up, only realizing when we become parents ourselves.
I have that same sniffle and stuffy face today. You really helped to bring it into perspective for me.
NOOO! At least it isn’t the stomach flu!
“I would watch the Price is Right and cartoons and other daytime television shows. There was no plethora of on-demand programming or DVR’ed favorites. I had to get up to change the channel, so I didn’t.” Wow – these sentences really took me back to some buried childhood memories. Incredible writing. Hope you are on the mend soon!
I miss my mom when I am also sick. I have two little ones sick at home right now. The power of a mom. Sigh…
It’s funny because when I look back at sick days when I was a kid, I remember them fondly. I seem to have white-washed all of the miserable sicky parts and I just remember the happy part about being home and being taken care of by my mom.
*sigh.*
Feel better, Kim!
Uh oh! I hate being sick because when you’re a mom, who is going to take care of you????
Ugh.. Being sick blows. Airborne, OJ and sleep are the only thing that works for me. Hope you feel better soon!
So sorry you’re feeling bad Kim. Lovely post….definitely puts it into perspective….often I struggle with not wanting them to feel bad and of course, wondering how that’s going to affect the day (in every single way). Hugs to you! You are a great mom…..
P.S. I remember how many times my father would pick me up from school when I was sick, never ever complaining or worried he’d get sick…. I miss him….I want to be that kind of parent….
Sometimes you have a beautiful way of writing exactly what is in my head. That awful mom guilt of having to take care of a sick child but worrying equally if not more about how it will impact your day…
I had a cold all week last week. And really what I wanted was for my children not to be sick at the same time as me. That prayer was answered, thank goodness, so now I am hoping for you to get better quickly. And for your kids not to be sick at the same time as you.
We have been fighting the same stuff at my house all week – not at all fun! I hope you are feeling better, and the kids didn’t catch it.
I work in retail and the teen is in High School so we are always fighting something in our home!