This week has been one wild ride! This isn’t a complaint: just statement of fact.
I have discovered some things this week that probably should have been obvious – well, in fact, were obvious – but that loving and completely righteous Deity evidently decided needed to be reiterated in practical form.
- 56-year-old men & women were not intended, by nature, to parent:
- sometimes it becomes necessary to fly in the face of nature
- one may temporarily win over nature but – at the end of the day – nature will have her revenge!
A corollary to these observations is: “Man plans: God laughs!”
I’d like to say, first of all, that twins run in my family. I have had experience with twins. My own two youngest of four were not twins, but were close enough in age (16 months apart) that friends with twins regularly observed: “Wow! Those two act exactly like twins!” Indeed.
I do remember how twins “tag team” (“Hey! Eggbert! You run that way and while she’s chasing you I’ll grab the cookies/dog/baby/paint/laundry…”).
What had somehow escaped my notice was the way younger siblings can (and DO) take advantage of the confusion caused by twins to create their own little ecstasy of chaos. Perhaps it’s because my “twins” were the youngest and I’d had plenty of time in which to nurture the fear of mother in their elder siblings. Perhaps it’s that I’m older now and have lost more brain cells. Most likely it’s a combination of both.
I had also forgotten that small children, particularly small children who normally attend daycare, are exposed – in one day – to many more viruses (and their generational mutations) than their 56-year old grandparents encounter in one year.
So what happens when four healthy, active, active, active (did I mention they’re active?) children with excellent immune systems spend a night and a day with one 56-year-old grandmother with
an aging more mature immune system?
Well, the night they left said grandmother thanked God and all his angels for the modern miracle of a slow cooker. I did this from the couch as I lay and moaned, “I really, really, really love those kids! And I really, really, really love the fact that they just went home!”
The next morning I was moving slowly, but moving. By afternoon the house looked like a house again – as opposed to the aftermath of a swarm of locusts – and the laundry was caught up. I was starting to congratulate myself on my quick recovery.
But by the afternoon of the second day after my
fallen darling angels’ departure my throat rather suddenly started feeling scratchy and my nose began to run like a teething baby’s… which, come to think of it, is what we thought the baby was doing [teething]. Hmmm, maybe not.
This morning I awoke to a full-fledged sore throat, all-over ache, room-spinning, no-voice case of whatever. Not to worry though. I don’t keep this kind of thing for very long. I’ll be back on my feet and in full voice by Monday… just in time to have the kids back again (and to have lined up some young, energetic helpers to stand with me)!
And that, folks, is why – in this 2012 A-Z Challenge month – there is no U, V or W.
That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.