Soon they’re going to put a QUARANTINED sign out in front of our house. Since last weekend, we’ve been dropping like flies around here. I started out with some bronchitis-type of thing. I had the chills and the aches and now I have the nasty, juicy cough. Lovely.
My two daughters have each had their bouts with it. My 2-year-old seems to be on the mend, but my 5-year-old is on day 3 of running a fever. Both are full of congestion and have trouble sleeping, which makes for fun nights. In spite of my son’s stint in the school nurse’s office and early dismissal on Wednesday, he seems to be escaping it. So far, anyway.
Then my husband, who NEVER gets sick, who REFUSES to get sick, came home from work early on Wednesday with a fever and chills. He’s been in bed the majority of the time since. I honestly don’t remember the last day he took a sick day. Unless it was because I was sick and he was helping me out.
Since I’m on the mend, I took the opportunity of having my husband at home yesterday afternoon to run to the grocery store unfettered by small snot-nosed children. And since my son needed baseball pants for Little League Opening Day on Saturday, I stopped by the mall on my way. Now sure, I could have just run into the sporting goods store and come right back out, but what fun would that be? So I meandered. I love to meander. Especially when I am alone at the mall.
In my meandering, I came across these coordinating dresses for my little girls. Aren’t they the KEY-utest? Who can take it? Honestly! So I picked them up.
I even found a couple of cute t-shirts for myself. I think I’m hoping in some realm of my subconscious that if I keep buying summer clothes, maybe summer will actually, you know, arrive. Why does it take so long for warm weather to come to Pennsylvania? WHY?
And thus begins the annual Month of Whining. If you look back in my archives, I spend every April disparaging of the cold, nasty weather and whining that I want summer to Get. Here. RIGHT. NOW. ALREADY! You’d think I’d learn that in the great northeast, April is just an extension of March and manage my expectations accordingly. But no. I have to whine and complain and generally make myself and everyone around me miserable for the entire unfortunate month.
And if you are lucky enough to live south of the Mason-Dixon Line and are posting pictures of your enchanting spring flowers and budding trees, I will probably leave snide remarks in your comment section. Be prepared. You’ve been warned.
So anyway. Enough of that. Change of subject.
I got home yesterday to find in my mailbox a letter from our little sponsored Compassion child. I could hardly read it for the tears in my eyes. Somewhere in Africa, a little boy held this paper, wrote those words, and knows that somewhere in the United States a family is praying for him and sending money so that he can go to school and have food and clothes.
I know that what we are doing is so minimal, given all that we have, but having contact with a child across the world makes the experience so much richer than just writing a check every month. I got so excited when I saw that envelope in my mailbox. I can only imagine the excitement those children must feel when they get mail from us.
We will write back this afternoon, and I want to send something. Last time I sent stickers. If you support a child overseas through Compassion or a similar ministry, I’d love to hear your suggestions for little things you send to them. Since it has to fit in a letter-sized envelope, the possibilities are fairly limited. Any ideas you have would be most appreciated.
And this is where I hunker down with my
second third cup of coffee and resign myself to another long, rainy day at home with sick kids. I’m sure you are riveted to your computer, waiting in eager anticipation for another captivating tale of a day in the life of the Hacking Housewife. Yeah. Whatever. I’m not buying it either.