It was good that I've been sick since Monday. Today, was the first day that I felt like a real person again. Just in time for the little ones to get fevers. BBG just moved from one spot of the house to another and rocked back and forth in the fetal position. I was grateful that I felt well enough to get her some toast and tea, and keep her stocked with chewable vitamin C.
But when she started moaning and screaming, and didn't want anyone to touch her, talk to her or turn on a light, I started losing my patience. After all, I DO have four other kids to take care of. Then I quickly remembered how miserable I felt just 24 hours ago. The other day, after 2 days with a soaring fever, body aches, and swollen throat, I went in my bedroom to change into pajamas. The girls had pulled out all of my shoes and left them on the floor. The folded- but not put away- laundry had now fallen onto the floor had been trampled by the aforementioned girls. All I wanted were my comfy pj's and I couldn't find them in this mess. I had no energy to keep looking and no brain power to think of where to start looking. So I did what any 34-year old mother of 5 would do when she is tired and feels like crap. I stomped on the ground, waved my fists and started crying, "Where are my pajamas, someone help me!?" I found them and felt like a complete baby, but knew that I had lost it, and desperately needed rest.
So when a REAL 3-year old acts her age and does it while she's sick. I think she deserves A LOT of my patience and all the empathy that my lap can hold.