Last night I came home from work feeling yucky. Headache, upset stomach, you name it - I felt it.
Because I have a husband who cares (or knows I'm like a child when I don't feel good), Chris was nice enough to let me go lay down while he made supper. Go lay down? Yes. I would absolutely go lay down!
Do you know the only downfall to being puny and going to bed after your kids haven't seen you since 7:30AM? Your kids want to lay down with you... all three of them... and they talk the entire time... and jump on the bed, too.
I started on my back, eyes closed to block out the light with Caillou blasting on the TV. UGH, CAILLOU I HATE YOU! Marlee on my right covering me with my robe, Miles on my left attempting to steal my pillow.
Mia? Mia walked in about every two minutes to scold her siblings for bothering Mommy when she didn't feel good. "Miles! Marrrleeeee! Get! Out! Leave Mommy alone!"
They'd leave, they'd return. I'd flip, I'd flop. I'd feel like every little movement was enough to make me want to throw up.
Finally, I found the perfect position: on my stomach with both hands above my head, my left leg cocked to the side. Ah, comfort!
After a few minutes, my stomach started to feel better and so did my head. My sweet little guy climbs up into the big bed and snuggles right up next to me.
"Yeah, buddy. Mommy's sick."
"Ok, buddy. Fix Mommy so I feel better."
And at that point, Miles proceeded to pull up the bottom of my shirt. I presumed it was to rub my back because that's what I do for him when he feels yucky.
He then blew raspberries on my back for a full minute.
"I'm up! I'm better! I'm up!"