Yes, I survived the Easter egg hunt and party at my house … with 36 kids (one added just today). However, I’m too exhausted to post about that, so you’ll have to be patient. I do have a couple of pics to share from it though!
What’s the one thing a mom isn’t allowed to do?
If you answered “get sick” then you have children. Yep, that’s the answer of course.
So what happens to me on Monday afternoon? I feel the flu creeping up. My body aches, I can feel the fever coming on, and all of a sudden, I feel yucky (as Little Miss puts it). I decide to make chicken noodle soup for dinner (chicken and noodles only for the wee ones, veggies for me and hubby) and start ingesting oranges as quickly as I can.
Hubby decided to do something nice for me on Monday, and he came home in time to put the kids to bed (not the way I would have put them to bed, but can I really complain when I’m lying on the couch?) and he brought me some medicine to knock me out.
Has anyone ever had Zicam? The outside of the box states that it’s virtually tasteless and suggests adding it to any liquid. Sounds good to me, although I was fine with the taste of the old Theraflu.
Silly me, I suggest adding it to the hot cocoa I was making before I went to bed early. Mmmm warm milk with good cocoa powder. I even used my special tiramisu flavor that Santa put in my stocking this year. Hubby added the medicine and brought it upstairs for me, while I lay shivering in bed.
I took a sip. Ewwww. Virtually tasteless? Apparently the marketing person who wrote that claim had all their tastebuds scraped off before sampling the medicine. Honestly, it isn’t a bad taste for medicine, but there is a taste. And the taste doesn’t really go with milk. But I braved it and gulped it down. What a waste of good cocoa. Fortunately, when you’re sick, you don’t dwell on such sadnesses.
Yesterday I woke up feeling slightly better but still pretty rotten. I got the kids off to school and sat on the couch until it was time to go pick up Little Miss. By dinnertime, I was done and couldn’t even deal with the smell of turkey bacon that Daddy cooked in the microwave for them.
This time, I decided to just take the Zicam straight. Why, you might ask? Well that’s simple. I have a bottle that holds 23 ounces of water and I had just filled it. I knew I wouldn’t drink all the water before falling asleep, and I didn’t have enough energy to go get a new cup and fill it just a little.
First I stuck my tongue into it, thinking I’d just sort of slurp it up. It’s thick and gooey, kind of like honey but more solidified. That started to induce a gag reflex, so I reassessed. I tried scooping it into my mouth like I would if it were a spoonful of anything else. Yep, texture wasn’t working, although I got some down. I then turned it sideways to let some drip off in the hopes of it dripping straight down my throat. That sort of worked. It didn’t go straight down my throat, but it seemed to be the best way to do it, followed of course, by a giant swig of water! Five minutes later, I finally finished my dose of medicine – including finally giving in and licking the last of it off the spoon, and I was ready for bed, sure that I would be healthy today for my egg hunt!
I woke up this morning and felt ok. But something felt odd, and I couldn’t figure out what it was. I got ready and went to go wake up the wee ones, still puzzling over what it might be. As I went in to get Little Miss to change her diaper, I finally figured out what it was. I had no voice. Just a tiny whisper.
Have any of you tried to parent two boisterous children with only a whisper for a voice? I sat them near me and explained my issue and asked them to be extra good because Mommy could only whisper.
Mister Man: Why can you only whisper?
Me: Well, when I was sick, the sickness went to my throat and took my voice.
Mister Man: But what does your voice sound like when it’s gone?
Me: Li-crack-kuh-wheeze the-crack-iss-crack
Mister Man: peals of laughter
Me: Nice (whispering again). Why are you laughing?
Mister Man: Do it again! Do it again!
Me: Doo-crack-ooo whu-wheeze-tuh?
Mister Man: (peals of laughter) Again! Again!
Me: It hurts, Sweetie (whispering, of course). Can you be extra good today so I can whisper and you can hear me?
Both of them: Yes, Mommy (and very solemnly, too)
That lasted all over about 30 seconds before the usual whining over not me not choosing the right socks for Little Miss and Mister Man not being able to get his (too small now) pj top off. Wheee, today was fun! The only good news is that it’s Wednesday, which means it’s a daycare day, as I work on Wednesdays, so I only had to get through breakfast and them off to school and daycare before I could give my voice a rest.
Now, pictures 36 children entering my home, all wanting to know when they could start hunting for the eggs. And me with still a not good voice (slightly stronger thanks to some hot tea I’d drunk). And rules to get across: 12 eggs per kid; if a door is closed, there are no eggs hidden there; and big kids go downstairs first while little kids hunt upstairs, then little kids head downstairs to finish off. Thank God for sympathetic moms with loud voices!
And now? I’m exhausted, but my voice is slowly returning, so tomorrow can return (I’m hoping!) to the usual chaos, with me managing more than a whisper. But tonight? I’m having some more cocoa in a bit… and I’m not ruining it with the taste of Zicam. That definitely gets stirred into a cup of water tonight!