To Live and Die in GA

I don't get sick often, it's something about my enzymes.  Or maybe its my hemoglobin levels.  I don't know - it's something science-y though.  Like, my body just knows that there's no practical way to take care of these kids if mommy is sick...so germs typically see me and keep moving.

It's because of all this scientific knowledge I have that I was so profoundly confused when I first came down with Death.  That's really all I can call it.  It isn't a cold, hell it's even worse than the flu...it's just death served warm and on a croissant, and it's being shoved swiftly down my throat.  Now, I'm not one to exaggerate, so trust me when I tell you...because I caught Death, I know I'm dying.  

So as I prepare to depart this earthly world, I think only of my children.  For posterity's sake, I thought it best to document my final day for them.  

5:45am - My vision is blurry, I think I'm losing my eyesight.

Oh wait, crust. There was just crust in my eyes, disregard.

6:08am - Heated toilet seats, is that a thing? It should be a thing and we should've splurged and gotten them for this house. I think I now have anal pneumonia. I bet Beyonce has heated toilet seats.  Everyone should be like Beyonce. 

6:30am - Baby just had a feeding. But I think she's trying to be strong for me. Surely she's not as callous as those older ones who don't care I'm dying. Though she did go back to sleep rather quickly. She didn't even bother to peer lovingly into my slowly deadening eyes. I must've already lost her to heartless Hekyl & Jekyl, I'm all alone.

Child pictured is much more sympathetic than my own.

6:49am - I'm all alone. Really this time. My husband went to work. He seriously left me. Something about being the sole bread winner for the household. I always knew he was selfish. I'll haunt him after I'm gone. I know for a fact he's afraid of ghosts. 

7:00am- The Big Kids are awake, they must have heard the garage door when daddy left. They're insisting on breakfast. I can't recuperate with them bugging me. What to do?! Quick, I'll play dead!

7:03am - Waffles for everyone then.

8:26am - I turned the heat up to 78• but it must be faulty because I'm still achy and cold. The children have started a new game called Ask Mommy To Hand Me Something and Watch Her As She Shivers.  Apparently, I'm losing.  

9:14am - Clearly my gray and ashen pallor has caused them to believe I'm already a goner because all 3 are now screaming loud enough to wake the dead. 

10:00am - I am trying to gently explain that Sick Mommy is a very near relative to Hungover Mommy, whom they met briefly on New Years Day, but they don't seem to catch my drift and insist on requesting snacks and craft time. The big ones get nothing in my will. Baby is still (teetering) on the fence.

11:46am - Lunchtime and the boy has just asked for more ketchup for his fish sticks.

More ketchup! As if crawling from the couch in my state and tossing my grocer's best version of frozen fish-like parts in the oven was not enough. No one will be satisfied until my stony carcass is lying face down on the kitchen floor.

12:59pm - I made it: naptime! The baby is tucked away in her crib and the boy has been deposited in his room. The big girl is eyeing me though. She might make this hard. Dear baby Jesus, if I could ask for just one favor - could you make sure all the kids take a nap at the same time. I'd be ever so grateful. Your girl, B - out!

1:11pm - What have I done to forsake you, Father?! The big girl is up and detailing to me how her sheets must be folded wrong because she can't sleep. I yell first but then re-think my strategy and walk into her room to reset her alarm clock. If she stays in her room until it goes off, she can have fruit snacks. Yes, in the middle of the day and yes, even though I told her and her brother last night they wouldn't get anymore candy until they were adults. But she has to stay in her room. Pinkie promise. In my haze, I may or may not have set her alarm to the year 2017.

2:59pm - Oh,  my back.  It's still achy but I have a strange sense of well-restedness.  What time is it?  My goodness, could it be?  They let me take a nap.  They love me, they really love me.  I should go and hug them all and tell them how I appreciate them.  Wait, no, that would be stupid.  I must lay here and not breathe, maybe they'll stay quiet even longer.  Yes, I can trick them into thinking I'm still asleep.  This can work.

3:00pm - The 5 year old is screaming from her room now to tell me she's still following directions.  She's also wondering if she still gets fruit snacks if she's awake but doesn't technically open the door. She's alerted the other natives that it's time to arise.

4:00pm - Ok, everyone (but the baby) has had fruit snacks and now they want to craft.  God forbid a day go by that we don't make colored trash out of scrap construction paper.

4:27pm - The big kids are making puppets out of paper bags and kleenex (that I may or may not have used today, I can't be sure) and I'm making spaghetti.  The baby is sitting in her swing for 2 minute intervals, but I can't complain.  I may be able to hang on until the Big Guy gets home from work.  I might even live to see another day.

5:17pm - Food is on the table, and I only had to break up one fight.  But my strength must be returning because when I threw them to opposite sides of the room I didn't pull a muscle.  As we head to the bathroom to wash up for dinner I catch a glimpse of myself.

Not gonna be winning any beauty pageants today, but hey...

6:02pm - There's spaghetti everywhere.  Why did I cook this?  It was a stupid idea.  My headache is returning, along with the chills and now there's this big mess.  I'm about to stress out.  I stop myself though and think WWJD (What Would Janet Do?).  Ms. Jackson wouldn't let a little pasta on the ceiling get her down.  I think she'd say screw these kids and she'd leave the mess until later, then she'd flash her nipple ring.  That's the smart move.

6:15pm - The big kids are playing their super fun home edition of Let's Run in Circles Until We Fall Down, not to be confused with the travel game Let's Run Around Target and Make Others Think We Have No Home Training.  Daddy walks in, he hides his alarm at the state of the kitchen.  The kids tell him how well they've behaved today.  Who taught them to lie this way?

It was me. Dammit, I'm good.

7:00pm - Baby & I have retired to the west wing of the estate (her room) for an evening feeding.  She sympathetically gazes up at me with her big brown eyes and seems to convey how proud she is of me making it throughout such a tough day.  I realize she's my favorite.

Then she slaps my boob and gums down hard on my nipple and I remember I have no favorites.

8:34pm - The kids are (at least temporarily) in bed, I decide to retire myself.  My husband comes up to check on me and chit chat.  I offer him an honest assessment of my day and he mentions something about "mucus driven paranoia."  I slap his face.  At least I think I did.  It's all blurry again as I drift off.  Not sure if this is a nap or The End, but I guess we'll find out when this NyQuil wears off.

I can faintly hear the Big Guy moving about the room and sniffling. Dear god, I hope he's not getting sick. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's a whiny adult with a cold.