A poem…

Mugs steaming

tea bags abound

tissues crumbled

piled on the ground.

epic moments are

when spit cups fall down.

the television runs

from day to night,

no ounce of productivity

is within sight.

deep, cloggy coughs

shake floors and ceiling.

fevers finally broken,

no relief in sight for feeling.

She lays in misery,

beyond tired of honey and lemon.

Horribly bad poetry aside, i am unshowered and sore. I am not sick much, beyond sinus congestion and a dull headache. But her sick is ruling everything, and that’s fine. That is why I am a mom who is available to her, and home with her. BUT- I have got to sneak in a shower. She is also so different from the sick girl, even a year ago. That girl would lay around and watch the Disney channel or cartoons. This girl wants to get nauseatingly sick over too many Hallmark love stories and then move on to the Walking Dead. Which is fine, I love the Walking Dead, but i miss my little girl a bit.

Chw had “guy night” last night. It was planned before G got sick… But it means I haven’t had any interaction with an adult since, well- Sunday, and even sunday was pretty consumed with Gen being sick.

Hopefully since her fever is staying gone, hopefully good health is just around the corner. (and Chw and I don’t get it!) I just had to post to maintain a thread of sanity. If you are  mom, I’m sure you understand!

4 thoughts on “A poem…

  1. Not a mom yet, but I very much enjoyed your poem and explanation! Very heartfelt and sweet, and from a daughter to a mother, we appreciate all the care and love on the “sick days” : )


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