Hubby and I discussed, at great lengths, the double-standard of adults being sick, in our home. When he is ill, I try to make a quiet space for him, encourage the kids to leave him be, and generally get him better as fast as I can. When I am ill, well, they try, they honestly do, but it just doesn't quite work that way. I am Momma, and apparently, Momma means that I am the glue that holds everyhting together, and the wheels that keep it all moving, all rolled into one giant life giving package. When I am ill, the only way to keep the kids from bothering me is to have them somewhere else-they know that when Momma cuddles them, they feel better, so shouldn't it work the other way? I still generally end up cooking, cause that's what I do, and I still drive everyone araound. Hermes looked at me last night, as I was tucking him into bed, and after thanking me for tucking him up, asked why I wasn't better ye? I tried to explain that sometimes it takes longer to get better, but he wouldn't buy it. Hermes insisted that I am Momma, and I can fix anyhting, make anything better, make it all be good.
I love that he has such faith in my abilities, but I also know that the day when I am hated for ruining everything cannot be terribly far off.
Thor knows that something isn't right, he keeps trying to cuddle, to rub my back and hair..once again, the things I do for him, but he cannot sit still long enough, and he forgets to let go of my hair before he walks away.
Buddha will sit quietly and cuddle if I hold him, but he and I are at oppisite ends of the virus lifespan, and I don't want to start his over, being it's mutated between us...
Ah Well...time to bring Hermes to the Palace of Learning and Knowledge, now with tai chi!
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