Sometimes you just need to laugh hysterically. Like laughing so hard you’re crying kind of laugh.
When the kids first started getting sick back in early February, we were like “Oh man, a sick kiddo.” Then, 24 hours later, another child went down. Every weekend, we would get to Saturday, do a high-five after seeing the thermometer read 98.6, put up the basket of meds and let out a sigh of relief…only to be suckerpunched on Sunday when yet another child, or two, would get a fever. Repeat x4 weeks.
On Tuesday night, after going through 4 rounds of Flu A and B, 2 rounds of croup, 1 round of a double ear infection, 1 round of the stomach virus and 1 round of strep, I felt yet another hot forehead. I had to stifle the giggle when booking the after-hours doctor appointment. In between calling the doctor and calling Scott, you know what I did?
I called and booked myself a massage for Sunday.
It was either that or pour myself a glass of wine. But, I wasn’t sure if the smell of a sweet sauvignon blanc on my breath would be helpful if the doctor caught wind of it. Looking back, I should’ve poured myself that glass and kept it in the fridge for when I got home.
Oh wait, that IS what I did.
At times I’ve felt like calling Bill Murray and asking him what it was like to film “Groundhog Day.” I’m pretty sure I know. And, I do feel a bit like those fish in the tank with Nemo when the girl starts tapping on the tank. Who disrupted normal?
We are so much more content when things are swimming along, aren’t we? It’s when the boat gets rocked, that the priorities get shuffled back into the right order, no matter how painful the realignment may be. As I look back (and I am praying we are on the downside, God) I am grateful for the time I had to spend with my children. I am grateful that my clients are understanding as worked slipped down the priority list. I am grateful I have a husband who is so helpful and understanding and awesome. I am grateful we both stayed well. I am grateful for DVRed “Twilight” movies, good neighbors, wine nights with the girls, a few extra hydrocodone I had left from my surgery last year, funny texts and msgs from friends and family and my sense of humor.
Because when you think about it, the snowglobe isn’t near as pretty until it’s shaken.