I woke up feeling miserable today. Nausea, headache, bodyaches, sore throat, chills–all the things. I was so off that I just stood in my kitchen, stumped on what to make for breakfast for what seemed like 15 minutes. My angel husband saved the morning by sending me back to bed and delivering eggs, toast, an orange, and some herbal tea to me (my favorite breakfast–I love him).
But our day went on, Devon had to leave for work and kids needed attention. On days like this, I find myself thinking (and sometimes whining) about the plight of a sick stay-at-home-mom. There are no sick days built in for motherhood, because my sweet little ones still need loving and snuggling and feeding and changing and and and. So what is a mom to do?
I often find myself saying, “I’ll be okay because I have to be.” Which sounds depressing but is also true. Today though, I dropped my expectations for myself, which I usually hate doing (because if I don’t do xyz, I am forcing someone else (i.e. Devon) to do it). I didn’t wash dishes, I only minimally picked up toys. I mostly parked myself next to my kids, huddled in a blanket while they played. And during Lucy’s nap, Arthur and I snuggled on my bed and watched Brother Bear.
And we survived. In fact, I even managed to make mac and cheese for dinner. I am learning that sometimes survival days are key to everyone’s well-being. They are not failures; they are necessary.