Literally. My vocal cords have decided to take a siesta. It's all email for me today. I hope no one thinks "oh, I'll just pick up the phone - it will be easier to just call her anyway" because no, it won't be.
I never get stomach viruses.
It's not that I am immune to illness, but if Ed gets the flu, I will get a sore throat. If he gets an upset stomach, I will get a sore throat. If he sprains his ankle... well you get the idea. It has always been this way. And every time I get a sore throat, I know there is the distinct possibility that I'm on my way to laryngitis. It doesn't happen every time or even every other, but it's always lingering... my body's way of making a threat "if you don't take me seriously and REST, there will be consequences." Perhaps it's God's way of keeping me humble since I do love to talk. I don't know.
Sometimes books are longing to be read.
On Friday, I took the day off because I was feeling so crappy. I took Chloe to daycare, did a couple of quick errands (feeling like crap doesn't make the things Chloe needs go away), bought some meds and returned home to get in bed with a book, my Pooh blanket and my cough syrup. And the day SPED BY. I was so depressed to realize that before I knew it, it was time to climb out of bed, get back in the car and go pick up the Muppet. It's not that I didn't want to see her, but do you know how long it has been since I rested all day and read a book? About 8 months. Know how long it will be before I get to do it again? 18 years or my next sore throat.
I think that's one of the things that is so weird about parenting and the subtle, quiet, nameless thing that sometimes makes it so hard. I walk through malls and look longingly at book stores. I think my favorite author (Stephen King) recently released a new book. I think. I can't say more than that because it was a passing whisper that I heard on my way to buy diapers. I can remember a time when I would count down the days to a new SK release and then schedule a weekend full of nothing so I could read, read, read. How delicious to be utterly left alone to READ.
I know it sounds like I'm complaining and I honestly don't mean to do that. But in all the things I worried about or thought about when I was pregnant, this wasn't one of them. I worried about dogs in parks, not having money for college, losing my job, tubes for ears, playground bullies. I remember saying to a friend of mine that after Chloe was born, I was committed to still being the person I am - I want her to know who I am as a person and not just who I am as a Mom. So, as a result, I drag this kid everywhere. True, I did back out on plans on Saturday to take a 2 hour nap (so needed), but did I rest yesterday and save my voice? Nope, we went to the zoo for the NKF walk (lots of fun, but exhausting). Being a working mom gives me a certain amount of balance in my work life - I have to leave at 5p and that's that. But, where do you find the balance between being a mom and being just a plain old person?
I haven't figured it out... maybe because there is no answer. This is what it is. My brother recently read this blog and said "I love my niece, but I wonder where my sister has gone." Maybe she's on siesta along with the vocal cords.
I don't feel missing, but putting down the book to pick up the car keys absolutely sucked.