This year, Mother’s Day went by in a blur. Aside from some wilting dahlias that remain on display, there is little evidence that the “holiday” took place in our house. In fact, the story of my life these last couple weeks can be summed up in just nine simple words: “My name is Mommy, and I’ll be your nurse – or waitress, landscaper, cook.” Take your pick.
It started out this past weekend when AJ, my 11-year-old, got the stomach flu. And let me tell you, it wasn’t pretty. Between bouts of nausea, hand washing, and sanitizing, I had a full-time job on my hands. Then, just when BOTH of us started to get our appetites back, my husband Hal came down with bronchitis. Funny how it took just one round of antibiotics and a couple of Extra Strength Tylenol to bring him back to his micromanaging ways. (I love him dearly, but did I tell you he rearranges the dishwasher?)
Of course, we go direct from winter to summer in Northwest Indiana, and being out in the cold isn’t so great for a nasty cough. So while he was busy moving cups and forks around indoors, I was diligently walking the dog with my parka on…in May. There are still gloves and down jackets piled up in the family room, just in case a rare (but not unheard of) spring snowstorm arrives mid-month. Not to mention sticky patches of hot cocoa mix and marshmallows on the kitchen counter. That grocery run I made last Saturday for s’mores necessities and kosher hot dogs? Let’s just say it’s now obsolete.
Fast forward to today. The temps are steadily rising to a consistent 70 degrees and my husband is feeling much better. Which means he’s back at work and not on my computer – the good news. But along with the abundant sunshine this week, that’s not the only sign that things are looking up. Last night, Hal walked in with a big white bag in his hands. Inside was a Snuggie, the only – albeit belated – Mother’s Day gift I’d asked for this year! As someone who’s always freezing, even with the heat cranked to 75, I was long convinced I needed one. Once I slipped my hands through the arm holes, I realized there’s truth in advertising after all. It really is a blanket with sleeves!
The best part? I finally had an excuse to sit down on the coach, put my feet up, and flip the channel to Cake Boss. Plus, just like the Snuggie commercial boasts, my hands were free to hold a mug of hot chocolate. And this time, my 17-year-old son Jack made it for ME.
Archives for May 2016
