You know those types of days. You have a nagging cold that isn’t big enough to keep you in bed, but it’s sure big enough to make you feel like you stuffed your head in a goldfish bowl.
The kids all look distorted, their jabbering is muffled and punctuated by “clinks” as they tap on the bowl… and there’s this drippy thing right between your eyes… no, not the goldfish, your nose.
How can a mother get anything done when she’s got a runny nose? Add to that a few sneezes and we’re talking about a real challenge! Have you ever tried to change a diaper with a head cold?
Oh, sure the naïve masses think, “So what’s the problem? You can’t smell anything.”
No, but you can give your baby a heart attack. While you are trying to grab both legs so the baby doesn’t dance in his diaper (they can do that, you know, without ever getting up off their backs) you’re busy wiping your nose with one tissue and wiping his derriere with another. You’re alert enough not to mix up what tissue goes where, and you’re snuffling so you can get the diaper under the baby just so without dripping all over the place, when, wham — “ACHOOOOO!!!”
You could send a baby into convulsions doing that.
But, lucky you. Once you get the kid’s eyeballs back in their sockets, he’s decided it was actually fun and now busts into a hearty gut-laughter every time you sneeze.
Just in time for the kids who are now arriving home from school. Into the house they bound and see mom, still wearing her robe, her hair is a tangled mess, her eyes are bloodshot with dark circles, her nose is brighter than Santa’s lead reindeer, she’s leaning against the wall for support, snuffing and then, “ACHOOO!!!” And what do the kids say?
“Mom, what’s for snack?!”
KERPLUNK.
The kids prod your body with the toe of their sneakers but all you can do is moan and thank God for the cool tile floor against your cheek.
Later your husband arrives home. He’s much more observant than the children who are running around the house in loincloths and waving spears over their heads. The first thing he wants to know is how you got footprints all over your back. When he rolls you over, he gasps. You’re not the lovely woman he married!
But even though you couldn’t swat away a gnat to save your life, you make a mental note to clobber him for grimacing and looking so startled. It’s not like he's always in prime form.
Then, there are the magic words, ringing in your ears and slowly echoing away into peaceful oblivion because the cold tablets are finally kicking in. Your husband cradles your head in his lap and pats your cheek. “Honey?”
You stare back up at him, blinking in awe.
He holds your face between his hands and stares deeply into your eyes to make sure you are conscious enough to hear: “What’s for dinner?”
(Jelly Mom is written by Lisa Barker, a busy mom of five, and syndicated through Martin-Ola Press/Parent to Parent. To read more, visit JellyMom.com.)
