Since Bub started preschool in the fall, someone in our house is sick every other week. So it seems. First, patient zero goes down, usually Bub. Then, G goes down. Then, Steve succumbs. It’s only a matter of time before my body caves.
However, the last week of April, I was the only one in the family that got sick. And, whatever I got was a doozy. This virus felt like covid. I was feverish (102), congested, had intense brain fog, and lost my sense of taste and smell. My teeth even hurt. Except, it wasn’t covid (confirmed by a negative covid test) and it lasted for much longer than my covid experience a few years ago.
I was down for the count. Ten days of being out-of-commission. It was the longest I recall ever being sick and the sickest I’ve ever felt. Poor Steve had to take care of the kids as I lay motionless on the living room floor, trying to help but being absolutely no use to anyone.
I knew this was par for the course for introducing my first kid to school and school germs. But damn, no one prepared me for how hard it would be to take care of kids and simultaneously recover from an illness. And work. During a week that was already challenging with no nanny and no family support.
Somehow, I got through it with my marriage still intact, my kids alive, and still employed.
As soon as I started feeling more like myself, I was eager to get out of the house. I made plans for us to visit Little Ducky Flower Farm in Barrington, IL. A delightful organic farm where we could pick our own flowers and see some sheep. The weather was beautifully warm and it was wonderful to feel the sun on my skin. We capped our afternoon with dinner at Farmhouse on North, where Bub ate his weight in mac n’ cheese.
This outing was my reminder that life gets better.
I’m alive!
Finding the best blooms
Sitting in grass for the first time
He had to bring Iggy
Giving his sister a tiny tulip he picked for her
Fresh cut flowers bring me such joy