Deep Wells, Two Hands

On days like today, I find it ironic that God only gave Woman two hands.

I certainly could have used more.

Both children are sick; wretched and pathetic, pity-inducing the way only sick children and orphaned puppies can be. They cry for water or for milk. They say they’re hungry, then that they can’t eat. They fight briefly over what movie to watch, then lose energy; their eyes glaze over and I wonder what the hell parents did with sick children before television.

They are too old to nap. They fight it with a passion, though their temperatures rise and their moods droop shortly after lunch. But hey-I’m a good example, at least. Someone woke me from resting my eyes inadvertently right there on the living room floor.

HRH has not been home during their waking hours at all in the past two days. I don’t know if this is on purpose or not; right now at this point in time I don’t care. I certainly can’t look after him without losing any last ounce of strength and patience I might have left in me.

Which, strangely enough, is a well, a virtual abyss of strength and patience that you never know you have until your kids are sick. It never seems to run that deep when they’re well.

Oh irony of ironies, deep wells and two hands.

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1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. evafannon
    Sep 12, 2012 @ 22:25:32

    Hope your kids are on the mend soon! The other thing I wish for (in addition to as many arms as an octopus sometimes) is a magic wand to help them be well again.

    Reply

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