Sick

I'm approaching the tail end of 17 days of solo parenting while Paul is in Asia for business. Week one was rocky; it took us a while to find our groove. But we did. Although the groove I found  I got sick. Fever, chills, body aches, want-to-lay-in-bed-all-day sick.

For the first two days, I was determined to push through. I medicated, drank coffee, and did most of the things I was supposed to do, with a little extra TV time for the kids. And that just made things worse. By the end of the second day, I crawled into my queen bed next to my 7-year-old, who timidly asked me, "Are you going to die?"

I needed a new plan. The next day (thanks to the prompting of a dear friend), I called everyone who had offered to help out while Paul was traveling. I arranged play dates and booked babysitters. I skipped the preschool potluck, and cued up last season's Downton Abby on my laptop. With the exception of a few pick-ups and drop-offs, I laid in bed all day. I ignored the dirty dishes and piles of laundry and allowed other people to feed my children.  And then, I went to bed with my kids at 8 p.m. And it worked. I woke up the following morning feeling, not perfect, but much, much better. It's a lesson I've heard a hundred times, but now I've learned myself. My body needs rest and downtime