Life With Girls

Grace has been frantic with a production at her college where she is helping with hair and makeup and costumes, so I haven't seen her for a few weeks. And, of course, in the midst of not having time to rest, she has gotten sick. Last week she started telling me about a cough and feeling bad.

On Saturday, as the show wrapped up, she texted me that she had a fever.

On Sunday, she texted that she might have strep. 

On Monday, the text informed me that she was retching over the toilet, planning to skip class to go to the health center. 

Finally!

The health center said she had flu symptoms and she could only treat the symptoms.

That afternoon, I received this picture of Grace along with the words:

"Told you I was sick."

Now with Ebola being the big scare in the news, Grace is lucky that I know her pretty well. I knew she was teaching high school students how to do makeup for a production of Dracula rather than dying of Ebola.

Still, many mothers may not have taken it as well as I did.

In spite of the vampire makeup, I can tell she is not feeling well. 

I got some one-on-one girl time with my great nieces on Wednesday while their mom went to the dentist.

We played some horses and danced to some Disney songs. Then I took 2-year-old Regan upstairs for a nap. 

You can  tell she was tired. She's still gorgeous with her big eyes and olive skin. Her hair is not really growing, at least not growing down. It seems to be piling up on top of her head. I love this picture of her.

Caroline and I made some cookies. They are a gluten-free family, which means no wheat. So we made no-bake cookies with oatmeal, peanut butter, butter, milk and cocoa. 

After we stir them on the stove, we plop them onto waxed paper so they'll harden as the butter cools. 

Caroline put herself in charge of licking the pan. She got every bit of chocolate, well, what didn't remain on her face. 

So, I am  loving my relatively calm time with the girls in my life.
My boys are still giving me headaches, so I'll just come up with a yoga mantra that has to do with those lovely nieces and my beautiful, hopefully recovering, daughter.

Birthday Do Over

I'm claiming a birthday do over. If you've ever been around elementary-aged kids, a "do over" means you get to do it again.
I think a birthday doesn't really count if I don't get to start it with a run.
I tried to go for a run, but I was up several times during the night coughing, and I knew it was a bad idea to try to run.
Almost as soon as I started to run, I felt that itching, tightness in my throat at the top of my chest. I thought I would walk instead, but since I felt light headed, I turned around and headed back home.
I made myself a cappuccino and watched the episode of About a Boy that I recorded from Saturday night.
Tonight is the swim banquet, which I can't miss because it is Tucker's senior year and he'll get a bunch of awards.
We have planned to go out for lunch or brunch somewhere, even though I'm not really hungry and can't land on a place to think, "that sounds delicious!"
But, we're going to pick up Grace and go out for a meal the four of us.
I think I'll declare Thursday as my birthday do over. By then, I should be well enough to go for a run. Then I'll schedule a facial with the birthday money from my wonderful parents.
So today's my official birthday, but I plan to celebrate later in the week.

Easter Askew

I knew this was going to be a strange Easter.
Spencer is away at college and Tucker left for a school trip to France. But I still didn't anticipate how off kilter things would be until Grace started throwing up Saturday evening.
She was really sick all evening and finally fell asleep.
Earl and I felt compelled to cancel our plans with his sister and family since we didn't want to spread the stomach virus to anyone else.
So this morning, I wandered the grocery aisles, wondering what I could fix for someone who has been recently ill, and two people who might come down with the same virus.
Grace slept and slept. I asked Earl to fix her Easter basket and hide it while I went to the grocery store.
We didn't go to church, again not wanting to spread the virus.
Earl and I were at loose ends as we waited for Grace to wake up. For the first time in 21 years, we didn't have kids looking throughout the house for their Easter baskets.
Grace's basket had candy, which I knew she wouldn't want to eat after being sick all night, and a copy of the DVD Les Miserables.
"If Grace would wake up, we could watch Les Miserables," I told Earl.

Here's a photo from our first Easter with Grace.
Love those floral print dresses and big glasses.

When she emerged around 11, she wandered into a chair at the dining room table where Earl and I were both on our laptops.
"Hurry up and find your Easter basket so we can watch Les Miserables," Earl said to Grace.
I turned my head and stared at him. Grace looked confused.
"I can't believe you  just spoiled the surprised," I said.
He looked a little sheepish but shrugged it off.
Grace wandered in the living room until she found her basket hidden under a blanket. She set it on the table and we all looked at it expectantly. Was the DVD hiding behind the chocolate bunny? Nope. We hadn't even put it in the basket.
I went to the closet and grabbed the movie from its hiding place.
So after our subdued meal, we spent the afternoon watching Les Miserables. It was just as wonderful as Sim at Chapter 1 - Take 1 predicted, and as moving as Grace told me.
I hope your Easter was a little more traditional than ours.

A Tale of Two Sons

Last Friday I started feeling very ill. We went out for breakfast at 6:30 a.m., the only time we could all celebrate Tucker's birthday, and I could hardly eat.
My throat hurt, my head hurt and my nose was stuffy. I came home from school for an hour break to rest and never made it back to the staff meeting. I felt too miserable. I lay on the couch as Earl left for work and the boys came home from school.
When I asked, Spencer brought me a glass of water and some ibuprofen.
I pulled myself off the couch to serve birthday cake to five boys who then cleared out quickly.
Before he left, Spencer said, "Mom, do you need anything before I go out?"
I told him no and he leaned over to kiss me in my cocoon on the couch.
I got sicker before I started to get better. Stiff neck, vomiting, chills.
By Sunday, I was sitting up at the kitchen table when Tucker wandered in for lunch.
Tucker began shoveling down his tomato soup and grilled cheese then he turned to me, "Are you sick, Mom?" he asked, surprise in his voice.
It took him three days to notice.
Those are some very different boys I'm raising.

Too Sick

Too sick to lie on the couch and watch TV. Too sick to read. Too sick to talk on the phone. That's how I felt yesterday. I could only lie in my bed with my hand over my face grasping the sides of my head. That and getting up to vomit were my only activities.
I woke up with a headache. Truthfully, it felt like what I remember from long ago hangover headaches. I decided to get over it. I had a glass of water while Grace got ready for swim practice. Then I popped two Advil before I woke Spencer up for basketball. I dressed, shoved my computer in a bag and determined to go to the coffee shop to write after I dropped him at school.
"Uhh," I moaned as we drove toward the high school.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"My head hurts so much I feel like I'm going to throw up."
I let him out and watched him trudge through the snow. Then I turned left toward the coffee shop. I sat in the parking lot for a few minutes, fighting the headache and nausea before I drove back home. I sat in the garage for a few minutes.
That's when I got that feeling in the pit of my stomach. You know the one. It means you had better run for the bathroom.
I got out of the car and grabbed my computer. I hurried up the sidewalk. Nope. I wasn't going to make it.
Tucker had carefully shuffled his name in the snow the night before. But it said TUKER with a little carat between the U and K to add the C he had forgotten. "Sorry, Tuck," I thought as I bent over the snow and threw up. I hoped none of my neighbors were outside.
I continued the walk to the house. Darn! I had locked the door. I puked once more in the brick flower box beside the back door. It was covered with snow so I hoped it would kind of wash things away.
When I finished in the bathroom, I threw my clothes on the floor and climbed into bed. My husband was still in bed.
"Don't talk to me. Don't touch me. I'm throwing up," I said.
And he said, "What?"
That's where I spent the day, vaguely wondering if this was a migraine with vomiting, or a stomach virus with headache.
The headache was definitely the worst part. Each time I leaned over the toilet, I thought, "Oh, please, don't let the kids catch this." They don't have the pain tolerance I do and I was miserable.
So yesterday, I didn't work on my novel, I didn't work out and I didn't get to see Spencer's basketball game,
I ate and drank nothing until about 6:30 when Tucker brought me half an inch of Seven Up.
About 8:30, I ventured out to the couch to watch the Wisconsin/Univ. of Miami game, only leaving it a few times to throw up again.
This morning, the headache was waiting for me, but not as severe. I feel it prodding me gently above my left eye. I might not get a workout in, but I've already had a cup of tea, so I hope for a more productive day.
Ugh! I hate being sick.