Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Oh, my aching knee, head, back, finger......

Well, really I don't have all of those ailments, but I do have a bum knee. I've always wanted to say that, now that I can it really sucks. Especially trying to chase a busy child around.

I didn't realize how heavy a twenty three pound kid could feel ,untill I had a knee I could barely hold my own weight on, and there's alot of weight there. So I am now hobbling around, trying to keep my littlest one occupied without having to pick her up, and boy does she like to be picked up. Ask anyone who makes eye contact with her and is in arms reach.

I go up and down the stairs about thirty times a day, only now it takes me twice as long. I usually have this little girl clinging to me like a monkey, hanging on for dear life. She still remains my extra, yet squirmy appendage.

It doesn't matter how sick or tired moms get, they just can't seem to catch a break. You could be doubled over puking in a bucket, sitting on the toilet, and someone would still barge in to ask you where their keys, gloves, lunch, homework or anything that pops into their head is(hey, it's haapened to us all).

Feeling like this reminds me of when my older children were small and I got sick, and I mean sick. I was a single mom at the time. Man those times can be pretty scary. I couldn't get off the couch, which remained the safest place for me to be, as I could see every room (or at least doorway to each room) from there. The kids, being kids were happy just hanging out at home for a couple of days, mostly in their pajamas, eating whatever I could stand long enough to prepare.

Finally my sickness had gotten the better of me and I lay there feeling like I could die. I had fallen into that sort of half-sleep that new moms and tired worn-to-the-bone moms sometimes survive on. The house suddenly seemed much too quite. I opened my lead eyelids and it was like waking to a dream. I saw all of this white fluff, resembling barbie hair all over the floor, going up the stairs.

I was way too tired to yell, have a fit or make an attempt to clean it up, so I continued to lay there. Then out of the corner of my eye, from behind a chair comes my oldest child, proud as she can be, announcing she had just given her little brother a haircut. "Isn't he beautiful?" she smiles. And there her newly shorn brother stood, as happy as a clam, sporting a big gaping bald spot in the front of his beautiful blond hair.

He's beautiful alright, lucky he has you!!

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