It's an evening ritual at our house. We come home from school and decompress, have dinner, do homework, take baths, get ready for bed. In between 'take baths, and ready for bed' another ritual of sorts takes place. The kids get wound up because it's that time and they don't want to go to bed. It usually ends with both being sent to their rooms because one has hurt the other physically or emotionally, or because that's the only thing that would keep them alive. :)
The last few weeks have been a struggle of sorts. We're all trying to adjust to the fact that Jason's not here and won't be for a maximum of 8 weeks. On top of all of that, I got sick. Nothing horrible, food poisoning probably, but enough to put me in bed for a day. My mom came by yesterday to drop off my prescriptions (I had a staph infection under my arm) and some items for the kids. Before she left, she talked to both of them and they seemed to understand that they needed to check on me every once in awhile.
That morning before I dropped the kids off at my in-laws, my kids came in with breakfast. After a night of puking, I wasn't hungry. But, I made light of it anyway and thanked them profusely. Caroline brought me her favorite cereal --Trix, in a yellow bowl because, "yellow is a happy color." Jack brought me warm milk, "Be careful, it's kinda warm. Warm milk makes my tummy feel better," was his remark. They both left and Caroline came back with a bowl of oranges. I thought this was an interesting thing to bring especially since I'd been puking but I had to smile when she said, "I brought you oranges because in all of the pictures I've seen of kids bringing their moms breakfast, they have oranges." So I ate an orange in front of her (I puked it up a few minutes after she left), how could you not?
Fast forward to last night. Jack was MASSIVELY worried. He doesn't like it when I don't feel well. He worries about that. That's why I try to do things to help me stay well. After my mom left, Jack comes in and gives me a hug. He says, "Dinner will be in about an hour. Okay?" Sure, whatever. I'm not in the mood to get up and cook, is what I'm thinking. I can barely stand up, and the only thing I can hold down is yogurt. Then about an hour later I here cereal being poured in the kitchen. Then, shuffling of feet and the frig door shuts. More shuffling of feet, some cereal dropping in the hallway, and here comes Jack. Yellow, happy bowl in hand. "Here mom. Here's your dinner." He puts the bowl down on the bed, goes and gets Caroline, and then they both come back with their bowls of cereal. We had dinner on the bed last night-Jack and I had Cocoa Puffs, and Caroline had Trix.
I got up long enough to put my bowl in the sink, and then went back to bed. At around 8:30 I heard Jack say, "Okay Caroline. If we want a movie we better go watch one now." Smiling to myself I hear me saying the same thing to them every night. Jack goes to his room and turns on his movie, Caroline to hers to watch her movie. At some point she starts singing, so I called her in to give her a hug. Of course, she's pretty irritated with me at this point because she's come in to my room several times to tell me she thinks she's running a fever and should stay home tomorrow (funny, so am I).
This morning, Jack comes in and says, "Mom. I don't think I should go to school today." And why not? "Because, I think I should stay home and take care of you." Such a sweet thought, but you're going to school. Sorry.
Sometimes I want to strangle them, and then they do really sweet things.
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