I loathe sick days. It’s not just the vomit, snot, and other bodily fluids that inevitably end up all over the house (and me). It’s the endlessness of the day. The way that I stare at the clock, willing each minute to go faster until six thirty when relief in the form of Daddy arrives home. It’s the kids fighting with each other because they feel too badly to do anything else. It’s the constant stream of drink fetching, bread toasting, temperature checking, laundry washing, medicine dispensing, and vomit cleaning. It’s the sleepless nights, the doctor visits, the fretting about fevers. It’s the pathetic look in the kids’ eyes because they’re so darn miserable, that sickly sweet fever smell that they get, the desperate desire to make them all better.
And today is one of those sick days. My poor oldest has had strep throat since Saturday night, with no relief in sight. She’s been on antibiotics for two days, but still feels awful. My middle has been running a temperature for most of the day, so I’m dreading her inevitable turn for the worst. My baby has thankfully so far managed to stay healthy, but I know that sooner or later she’ll succumb to the Sickness, too.
But, to be honest, there is a bit of bright side to these long-lasting sick days. There’s the abundance of snuggles, which most days they’re too busy to give. There’s the freedom to watch as many movies in a row as we want without the Mommy Guilt. The ability to dole out as many Popsicles as they want with the assumption that, in this case, it’s actually good for them. The pause on all non-essential housework and cooking until everyone is feeling better. The forced closeness that being quarantined brings.
So right now I’ve got to get back to snuggling and watching “The Muppets” on pay-per-view – until Daddy gets home.