I woke up to a screaming Daniel. Clutching his ear, high fever, clammy hands. In the time it took for me to run downstairs to get the numbing antibiotic drops for his ear and back up, his ear drum had ruptured. There was blood and pus all over my pillows and sheets.
I am grateful for plastic matress covers.
Taylor was feverish. She was also limping. I looked at her foot. No splinters, no bruising, no obvious injury. She was tired and had to be carried down the stairs.
I am grateful for a svelte toddler.
Blayne had a fever as well. And her throat hurts. And her legs. And her head, her arms, her knees, and her neck.
I am grateful that she's able to tell me what is wrong and where.
Thaddeus was completely unaffected. He was dressed and ready for school. He had to debate between wearing his Transformers jacket with no hood and carrying an umbrella OR just wearing the blue jacket with a hood.
I am grateful for his love of school and his clearly superior immune system.
I had to do all of the laundry. I can't decide if we have the flu or not. I can't decide if I'm paranoid because of the overzealous news coverage, or if it's a mother's intuition. Either way, I'm going to wash every shirt, pant, blanket, stuffed toy, and towel in this house.
I am grateful for the sanitize setting on my washing machine.
It is pouring outside.
I'm grateful that at least on this sick day, it's raining, so that I don't have to convince people to lay around. Rainy days like this are not for outside play. I'm grateful that it's so cold when they try to sneak outside that they run back in and lay on the couch under piles of blankets and rest like I told them to do in the first place.
DadGuy calls to tell me his plane has landed. He is safe in Arizona.
I am grateful for his timing because I needed to talk to a grown up.
I make a shopping list. Saltines. 7up. Juice. Milk. Dryer sheets. Comet. Chicken noodle soup. Tylenol. Motrin. I look at the clock. I can't make it to the store and back before the school bus arrives. I look down at myself. I jump in the shower.
I am grateful for my insanely fast getting ready skills.
We meet the school bus. We pick up Tad. He makes us laugh. We discuss the errands we are about to go on. Pharmacy. BJ's. Home. Maybe a quick stop at the beauty supply because mommy is out of monomer. But JUST MOMMY will go in, because it's a super fast trip. Okay? Okay.
I am grateful for the DVD Player in my car.
We go to the Pharmacy. Tad reads the sign. C-V-S. We go inside and head to the pain relief row. I look at the boxes. How many pills per dose divided by four shortlings, hmmm...
I am grateful for the economy size, generic brand sale.
We head to our next stop, the Beauty Supply. I check the clock before I go. I tell my kids to start counting. If I'm not out in 30 seconds, they'll get a treat at the next place. They shout "GO!" I run in and grab exactly what I need, and book it back to the car. I didn't make it in under 30 seconds. Dang.
I am grateful for cheerful dispositions.
We head to our last stop of the evening. The rain has let up a bit, and Taylor is hot again. We forgo our jackets and head towards the store. As we reach the curb and are about to enter, she throws up. All over the front of my shirt. All over the front of hers. I turn around and the five of us head back to the car. I open the doors. I peel off her shirt. I dump out the medicine out of the CVS bag and put her shirt in there. I look around the parking lot. It is empty. I pull off my shirt. I put my jacket on. I zip it up. I zip up Taylor in hers. I tie the bag with the vomit covered shirts and throw it in the back of the car. I grab my purse and my kids hands. We head back inside. I am not going home without everything on my list.
I am grateful that I have no shame.
We pick up our things, and grab some caramel apples. I did promise a treat. We get home just as it starts raining hard. For dinner, we have ramen noodle soup, caramel apples, and saltine crackers.
I am grateful that my children are young and think ramen noodle is a gourmet meal.
I switch the laundry again. We have showers. We take our medicine. I think the day is almost done. Taylor throws up again.
I am grateful for scotch guarding my couch and for baby wipes.
We finally get into bed. We say our prayers. We close our eyes. In moments, all four shortlings are sleeping peacefully.
I am grateful for those little blessings in disguise.
