Sheila's Brush

My daughter has finally recovered from pneumonia and then a nasty virus that kept us housebound for a pleasant two weeks.  In that time I snuggled with my daughter, re-arranged tupperware, and gutted closets. It was during these activities I discovered my house in need of some serious spring dusting and a coat of paint. 

No one will argue, when you have kids there is a certain amount of paint scratches, smudges,  and the occasional gouge that falls in the acceptable level.  I’ve discovered dust-bunnies that, had they been left another day or so, might have walked themselves into the garbage.

Spring project? Nothing a little sand paper and a lick of paint can’t fix, right? Paint those dust bunnies right into the paint as if they were always meant to be there! - Ha, ha, ha! Who am I kidding!  I can barely get a week worth of laundry put away.  It gets washed, folded into the laundry basket, emptied and sorted onto my bed…then back into the basket as I’m too tired and need to get into my bed (this process is then repeated for the next three-four days until the clothes is finally put away). Sound familiar?

It’s been an interesting few weeks to say the least.  Hockey for the boys is now in playoff mode, while other activities, like gymnastics and canskate are coming to an end for the winter season.  I can’t complain about winter, we’ve been quite lucky this year.  Though, once again I must slowly reintroduce my eyes to the phenomenon known as the “sun”.  I don’t know if Newfoundlanders go South during March and April specifically for sand, palm trees, and “all-inclusive” resorts; but, more so to solidify the belief that the sun does shine in other parts of the world. 

Last week while drudging my way down the Parkway, its’ glorious rays broke through the gray grief-stricken clouds of March spilling light and hope onto the streets of St. John’s.  Like a scene out of Hollywood, I wanted to pull over, exit the vehicle, stand in the middle of the road allowing my skin to absorb the heavenly and scarce warmth of the sun……”Mom, can I have $20.00 for Toys r’ US?”, a little voice breaks the silence as my blinded eyes squint to regain their focus while I attempt to remain on the road.

All that’s left now is the impending winter storm of Shelia`s Brush.  Generally, St. Patrick`s Day is accompanied by the Legend of Shelia`s Brush.  Newfoundlanders are given one last final wallop of a winter storm to officiate the coming of Spring (Spring? I laugh).  It`s said that Shelia is either the mother, sister or wife of St. Patrick; this last final storm (or storms) are said to be Shelia brushing away what`s left of winter. Sweeping away the winter season making way for Spring to arrive.

Well, I hear she`s cleaning house for this weekend. If so, I have a few requests.  “Shelia? While you’re whipping up a few snow squalls, blowing snow and zero visibility could ya swoop by and take some dust bunnies, slap a coat of paint on the walls and base boards and if there’s time, drop a box of wax on the doorstep…winter’s not the only thing needing a “brushing away” – these legs haven’t see a razor since…good grief that’s not pleasant!”

Happy St. Patrick’s Day to all!

Sick Days

There‘s nothing worse than a sick child.  Their usual active, happy-go-lucky selves replaced by a fevering, cough strickened, pathetic bag of bones imbedded in the recliner.  Little rosy cheeks with a tiny whimper for a snuggle, is all this Mama needs to grab her comfy pants and fuzzy blanket to settle in with the sick.

Day 1, Sunday – It’s confirmed that little Grace is indeed sick.  The persistent cough is now accompanied by pink cheeks, a warm forehead and mild irritability (though I believe her genetic make-up of XX allows for constant irritability on a varying level). She’s low key, content to watch her movie and I putter about the house as normal, tending to her every need while avoiding any level of housework.

Day 2, Monday – Boys have been picked up for school.  The little Miss picks at her breakfast taking in the adventures of Animal Mechanicals. Though not feeling well, she is pleasant and truly adorable as she attempts to blow her own nose.

We color, read stories and hang out of the couch. Like clock-work Gracie begins to crash mid afternoon and snuggles up with her bankies while Ice Age plays in the background. I have seized this time to do laundry, clean two-day-old dishes (unpleasant), re-organize cupboards , craft supplies, all the while removing dust bunnies that soon could have walked away on their own.  If I was going to be housebound, today I was going to catch up!

Day 3, Tuesday – The day starts off with the announcement of a snow day!  Again.  Snow, and high winds once again force the closure of schools for the day.  And, like most snow days, it’s perfectly wonderful out by noon.

The boys had puttered up the street for some good ole snow-day ice hockey. It’s now we visit the Doctor to discover Little G has a nasty fever,  bad sinus infection and pneumonia.  Who knew! 

With a lift from Mom, we reassumed our spot in the rocking chair, nice and warm and cozy.  It’s terrible to see them so pathetic, however, I can’t help but love the cuddles that come along with the sickies!

Day 4, Wednesday – Middle child is not feeling the best. Warm forehead and cough; two out of three down for the count; lots of cuddles going around now…again, and again and again.  Good grief man! I’ve barely smelled fresh air in four days, I’m becoming more idle by the minute.  Boogers, diarrhea, snot-filled tissues..there was nothing cute about it.  Did we really need to have the three of us stuffed into the recliner like hogs in ninety-degree heat? The last of my personal space was barely visible.

 In a desperate act of entertainment, I give my boy a paper shredder and a box of “to be shredded” papers. “Here buddy. Have at it!”, I loving grumble as I find him a spot to perch.  Surly this would entertain him for a little while.

Then, as if by some sixth sense, a voice emerges from the burning heap of blankets and snotty tissues, “Drew!!! I’m over here!”. –  there was no peace. Even unwell, these two siblings would find any excuse to grobble.

“Mommy I’m thirsty.”, “Mommy can you get me some tissues”, “Mom, I don’t like the peel”, “Mom can I shred the envelopes? – Sweet mother of jingles people!!!  “Here’s one for you…. Can I have two seconds so I can PEE - PLEASE!!”

The threshold, maximum Mommy-ness had be reached. Like the Rogers “on Demand” button, I too was being pressed and pressed, because when you’re sick, you need it now-  And so you should, but now I was running out of steam.  I had to get out.  The walls were closing in and my tolerance level depleting. A swift text to the husband indicating it would be in his best interest to get home quickly and a plan of attack to Costco – my breath of “fresh air” was minutes away.

The man’s truck wasn’t in park as I dashed down the walkway. Zoom, zoom baby!  As I drove to my destination,  I had feelings of guilt. What a sin for me. A sick little girl, an unwell boy and all I can think of is “how I’m getting out of here?”. You know what?  Shoot me!  I’m only human. Three days of extreme care giving with no fifteen-minute break, no family day, no annual leave.

Day 4, Thursday – Both boys make it to school. My little princess is still sick and starting a new course of antibiotics. She yo-yo’s back and forth between precious angel and evil queen; I however, thanks to Costco and some therapeutic online shopping feel refreshed and well equipped to dish out some “Mama loves ya, even though you can drive me nuts – feel better my angel- loving!”

Day 5, Friday – Repeat....with wine.