I have a houseful of sick children. I seem to have something else, with completely different symptoms but I’m miserable nonetheless. Kids that were sick and then better are sick again.
These are the days I’m pretty sure I’ll never miss. Puke bowls and the dreaded single bathroom that typically is doable becomes a thorn in my side of a different sort. Laundry hasn’t stopped moving and yet I’m behind on hampers. Sheets and blankets keep cycling through instead.
To top it all off, before I got sick I pulled out all the summer clothes for the kids. They all must be washed and aired outside after spending the winter in the shed. It’s a job I dread under normal circumstances. Now, they wait.
Liberty is well. My kitchen is clean, thanks to her. Laundry is moving, thanks to her. Eden didn’t get sick until today. She made supper last night.
Having a lot of kids is never so hard as when they are sick. They can pass a bug around for weeks. Throw in a sick momma and things fall apart really fast. Hallelujah for little things that become really big things, like children who are capable and willing to step up when things get hard.