The best kind of sick day

I do not cope with pain well.  I know that we women like to pretend that we're all tough after we have kids, but honestly, with both of my deliveries I only lasted through an hour of labor before I was crying in the fetal position and asking for an epidural.  Being tough is just not my thing.

Yesterday I woke up sick.  No fever, but I felt like my muscles had been sent through a meat grinder and there was a construction crew in my head.  I used to like the achy, lay-in-bed symptoms, but I now have kids, so I dread the days when I have to deal with them when I feel like making a cocoon in my bed.  Luckily, Brandon has a super flexible schedule, so he got up with the kids, changed our flat tire, and took care of them until about 1:00.  He is an awesome husband.  But eventually he did have to go to school, and when I got home from dropping him off I was in bad shape.  I called my friend who lives in our complex and she volunteered to take Violet and Charlie for awhile.  I was more than happy to get rid of them for a few hours, so she came over and took them home with her.  I then took a glorious nap and woke up THREE HOURS later, called, and she said that the kids were being great and I could leave them there as long as I wanted.  I came to get them awhile later and after I got home, she came over again with some chicken soup that she had made especially for me.  And in my head, I was thinking, "WHAT? Who does that?"  I'm beginning to lose count of all the times she has saved my butt.

And that got me thinking about the last time I was really sick and I had equally great help.  It was when I was bed-ridden after having Charlie and having a nasty spinal headache.  I remember laying in bed with a little newborn, and Brandon comes through the door with Gatorade, pills, and IcyHot, and offers to rub my back.  I don't think I could have been happier if he had come through the door on a white stallion.  That was exactly what I needed.  I spent the next couple of days watching movies on the bed and taking several naps a day.  Then when my sister came into town, she sang and danced to Jingle Bell Rock just to cheer me up, took Violet for the day, and came back with two 44-oz drinks from Sonic-- an Ocean water for yumminess, and a Coke for caffeine.  For weeks after that, any time I went to Sonic, Violet would ask if Poodle was coming, too.  My sister also laughed uncontrollably when I was hobbling to the bathroom and Violet ran up behind me and slapped my butt, and actually knocked me down. And even though I was bed-ridden, post-partum, and pathetic, those first days after having Charlie are some of the fondest memories I have.  I have to say that I have very good sick days.