The day has been spent on the sofa.
The weekend too, but this weekend was me comforting, nursing Little Man.
Now it is my turn. Today I am the one down, on this sofa.
Everything hurts. Fibers of my body ache that I didn't know I had; like a new workout when muscles you didn't know you have complain and groan. You know how it is; it's just the flu, standard version. Booboo has it too, he's holed up in another of his 'dens.' He's a loner when he's sick, so we check on him but leave him be mostly. And as I work hard on being still and silent the usual gerbil mill of guilt spins and rattles: not doing chores school laundry meals. I groan silently at a wasted day.
But then again, maybe not. Because today gave me the chance to be the one cared for. Rare indeed, and its own kind of gift. Today a five year old boy tucked his blanket around me when I was chilled sleeping. He brushed wisps of hair back, kissed my cheek and forehead. Tender from my rough and tumble boy.
And there is beauty in the sick in an odd way. I got to be planted and still enough to see more. Better.
Seen from my sofa: girls getting Sippy cups for gabey. Miss M making small sandwiches for her little brothers. Kids draped over chair arms to just be near. And most of all: two small boys arms around each other patting each other on the back as they watch some show. Just because they are together, best buds. Gabey falling asleep in the chair and again, Little Man tenderly tucking his own blankie around him. Kissing his cheek.
A few days after we brought Gabe home, Little Man said with a face of furious jealousy "Send him back!". We have come far. Here, stuck on the sofa I can see farther this afternoon than some of the usual harried days. We've had a few "Lord of the Flies" moments, today, don't get me wrong.... But it is these days too that build a family, small days.
The price for these sights? A crazy achey body filled with flu? A wasted day? Maybe not so much. I'd say its a bargain.
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