I am the only sick one.
My girls are full of life and energy. They radiate health all over me, all day, so that I'm cheering for a dance contest, tossing a baby into a pile of pillows and blankets, and bundling myself up in a scarf to go shopping for peppers at the farm.
As we open the gate to the animal pen, the chickens run up to us expectantly, fluffing their wings and pecking one another out of the way. We don't have anything for you, guys, and the black rooster chases me in a circle.
I tell him, "I'm not afraid of you!" but he knows I'm lying. All the while, Louise is wriggling in my arms, crying to get down because she loves these chickens with a heart so pure. She is reaching for them and calling, "Hi, baby!"
We head into school with muddy boots and stories about how mommy screamed and ran from a chicken. I'm sick, remember, and I've been carrying my baby on my hip, so close to giving up. So close to saying, "I can't do this. There must be some way out, because I won't make it to the end of this day."
But, I heft my girl higher and call to my Scouty, "Goodbye gorgeous! Have a good day!" Louise waves and says, "Bye bye, baby!"
At home, just the two of us, we roll the ball and I hold it up saying, "Orange ball." We read a book, and I let Lulu turn all the pages. We swing on the porch and I pretend to eat her new shoes.
When daddy gets home, I am frazzled. A pathetic dinner of Bunnies and Cheese and frozen peas is congealing on the stove. I hand him the baby, tell him I'm sorry, gather together a few sick day preparations and head out into a rain so fine it's barely a mist on my face.
Tissue clutched in my little fist, a cup of spicy tea sloshing at my side, I turn on some music and keep it down low. I roll down my window just enough to smell the leaves and drive off in our rattling old Hyndai with car seats and half eaten graham crackers in the back.
How I feel is brilliant, like I should pull over somewhere remote and fall asleep slumped behind the steering where. It feels so good to be me. I have a book in my bag. The sun is setting. I feel very much like I'm scoring one for the little guy.
Today's post is a link up with Heather of The Extraordinary Ordinary's Just Write. If you want to join in, write something about the details of your day and link up! Be sure to read a few other pieces and get to know some great new writers in the process.