Along with welcoming in the new year, our family welcomed in the sick. Well, not so much welcomed it in, it just sort of slipped right on in after the ball dropped.
It all started with the boys. The bearded one was all sprawled on the couch watching the History channel and drinking his weight in the purple frost Gatorade. (Gatorade, stop making any other flavor already!)
The baby one was all hold me hold me put me down put me down hold me.
And I was all: my immune system is awesome, I got this, moms don’t get sick, here let me make you another bowl of chicken noodle and here wipe your nose on my shirt.
That is until my immune system was all like being awesome is so last week.
So today in our house the bearded boy is all better (yay!) and the baby boy is on the up&up! (yahoo!) And me, I’m pajama-ed all day, surrounded by crumpled tissues, and letting out the occasional dramatic gasp of air because I’m nothing if not a dramatic sick. And once the baby one is in bed, geez I turn into such a girl. I blow my nose all pitiful like and I ask for chocolate and I whine about the educational thing on television that the bearded one is fascinated with. It’s really rather annoying, I’m sure of it.
But good grief, I’m spoiled. Rotten. Because there’s chocolate chip cookies in the oven and an adorable baby sleeping sound in the other room and a handsome man pouring me a glass of milk, calling my obnoxious girlish ways adorable.
And I leave you with a video of the little baby serenading me with music on his piano. (I told you. Spoiled. Rotten.) Oh this life!
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