I AM Modern Magazine for Moms

friend touched base and asked how things were going.  "How can I help someone who doesn't live and breathe this life every day understand?" I asked myself.  Attached is what I came up with.  I later realized how many of my fellow moms could relate and sent it to them.  I can't tell you how many found grains of their own lives in this account of this one week of my life.

Dear Fellow Super Mom Friends:

 In case no one has told you lately - you're awesome!!!!

 Sunday: Preschooler gets fever.  Fever breaks during the night.  
   
Monday: Have to keep Preschooler home (can't send to school unless fever free for 24 hrs). Preschooler sick and coughing all day.  I start to feel sick.  Then get call that 3-month-old infant has diarrhea (pooed 7 times in less than 6 hrs).  Take both girls to doctor.  Told fine and to keep monitoring both. Both of us having just returned from maternity and paternity leave, we were panicky about taking more time off from work so soon. Not to mention that my body was feeling like it had been sat on by an elephant. Began calling parents for help to no avail. Father-in-law ultimately offered to help but was left off the hook after hearing his reaction to the words “projectile poo.” 
   
Tuesday: Can't send either kid to school b/c too sick so take day off. Zicam that pharmacist recommended kicking in. Kids doing better. Day was manageable. False sense of security sets in. 
   
Wednesday morning: Can't send either kid to school b/c, while better, mommy feels guilty asking the preschoolers’ teachers to listen to the constant coughing all day or to ask baby’s daycare provider to contend with frequent messy poops while taking care of other children. Unfortunately, have too much work to take full day off so try to balance both.  Doesn't work well past about 10:30.  One of first clues was when now bored Preschooler found daddy's used tea bag from the night before.  Tore open and began to "make tea".  Later fessed up to dried up tea leaves found all over the floor with great pride. Mommy e-mails husband and begs for help. Husband announces he’s on his way.

Wednesday afternoon:  Preschooler, annoyed that mommy was on the phone with co-worker and, finally concluding mommy had lost hers, dropped handful of marbles on mommy's head - Ouch!!!. 

 Husband arrives home at 2p as my night in shining armor to save the day.  Only to then go into the bathroom and proceed to puke and poo his guts out until about 3:30 the following morning.  
   
Wednesday night, Halloween - time for trick or treating:  Puking husband, pooping infant, tantruming preschooler..... mommy threatens to cancel Halloween.  Preschooler gets mad and slams mommy's bedroom door.  Mommy goes to open door and does so with some energy to make a point and slams door into her own knee so hard she starts to cry.  Daddy, thinking mommy has finally gone over the edge comes running out of bathroom to 'help'.  Mommy assures him DCSS does not need to be called, Karma whipped her into shape just fine.  Preschooler snaps into shape just in time.  Candy is begged.  Kids put in bed.  Mommy begins to relax.  Baby wakes back up, wants more food; poops.  Alot.  Mommy sits on couch feeding baby while laughing maniacally.  It was not a healthy laugh.  Baby poops more.  Mommy begins trying to overdose on candy corns.  Doesn't work, can still hear family. 
   
3:15am Thursday :  Baby wakes up poops a quart and wants to eat.  Husband still puking, no help.   In fact, husband having weird muscle spasms while puking and can barely walk.  Once almost crashed to the floor on way to bathroom due to pain.  Mommy and cat soared into sky out of fright. Went right back to sleep. 
   
Thursday morning:  Preschooler wakes up coughing like a chain smoker.  Worse than yesterday.  Mother overcome with love and empathy and, admittedly, a bit of dread at the realization that she has to keep Preschooler home again today.  Husband no longer puking but not really any help either.  In fact, mommy looks at him and realizes she should probably take him to the doctor but then concludes she does not have energy or the time and that pioneer families survived as much without a trip to the doctor and so could he. Drop off baby at daycare hoping that her pooing does not become so unmanageable that she has to go pick her up early. Goes to store to get Gatorade and juice for daddy. Brings it home and tells daddy to start drinking or she’ll have doctor poke him with needle. Daddy obliges.  

11:15am Thursday - Preschooler is mad at mommy for telling her to pick up the tissues she threw on the floor and proceeds to sit at desk pouting telling mommy that "she is not her friend".   This was not the first time I'd heard that this week.  
   
11:38am Thursday – Mommy working, looks up and sees bored preschooler coloring glass on top of desk with a marker and wiping it off with her fingers.  Daddy in bathroom again.  Mommy realizes that attempting to work is futile and that daddy was not as much help as she’d hoped. Mommy contemplates throwing in the towel and drinking 'grape' juice of the adult variety.  Daddy comes out of bathroom celebrating not puking again.   Preschooler and Mommy sing the "Happy potty song."   That pretty much sums up Thursday.

 Friday: Preschooler feeling better but school is closed for teacher work day. Preschooler home again. Boredome mounting. Mommy drops off baby at daycare, runs errands and then goes home to begin cleaning.  Step one: Excavate Mount Poopmore – a pile of diapers and wipes on the floor near Daddy’s side of the bed from when he helped change the baby’s diaper during the night. Apparently finding where mommy had moved the trash can was a mountain sized big deal in the middle of the night. Mount Poopmore is further evidence that mommy and daddy have no sense of smell left after just two kids. Daddy occupies preschooler until Gran arrives mid-day. Daddy disappears into Preschoolers’ room to sleep for the rest of the afternoon.  Gran saves day by occupying Preschooler for rest of the afternoon.  After 8 hours of cleaning house still not done. 

 Saturday: Family more or less all better. Have appointment to get my hair done. Drive away from house leaving husband to contend with naked Preschooler screaming at back door. She wanted to come. No. Arrive at hairdresser, cape askew, and announce “We’ve all been sick all week. I’ve escaped.” Hair dresser, a mother and grandmother herself, responds “Come right this way, we’ll relax you.” 

To top it off, some favorite quotes for you from our mothers (who do a lot for us and we're very thankful, so I'm not criticizing):  "I'm glad to help this week my schedule is [blah, blah, blah], next week would really be much better."  And, my personal favorite: "I'm not really a diarrhea kind of grandmother."  

Our Halloween in pictures are attached for your bemusement.  They about sums it up.  

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