Resties

The kids and I are pathetic.

My fever went down yesterday, so LIKE A DANG FOOL I got up and slowly cleaned.  I thought the whole “slowly” thing justified it.

“I am taking it easy,” I told myself, “By doing it slowly.”  And then I thought how nice it would be for my husband -who has been running himself ragged trying to take care of us and work -to come home to some corn chowder, one of his favorite dishes.

I even took plenty of time to lie down between picking-up jobs and dish washings.

Right before the chowder finished cooking, my fever returned and I had to run to the bathroom for the first of what turned out to be three terrible bloody noses.  Okay, did I phrase that right?  It makes it sound like I have three noses.

Anyway, last night turned out to be really bad.  The poor kids’ bodies have HAD it, and though mine has too, I hate that I can’t get up and get back to life as I know it.  But I know if I don’t take it easy today, I’ll have another night like last night and I really think I’d rather slit my wrists and do a handstand in saltwater at this point.

BUT during the times that I actually did rest yesterday, I was able to snap a few pictures that I wanted to share.  The first is of my legs.  Have I ever told you how much I hate them?  Well, I USED to.  They were the bane of my existence.  They were awkward and long, and I was just sure that my life would never achieve it’s true measure of happiness until someone came along with a miracle medical procedure that would shave off a good 5 inches from both sides.

I blamed them for my utter lack of grace.

I blamed my utter lack of grace for my lack of popularity.

I blamed my lack of popularity on my acne.

I blamed my acne for never having any boys interested in me.

So really, my legs were at the root of all these rather radical evils.  Somewhere between living with a roommate with long legs like mine and being six years into marriage, I quit worrying about my legs.

I stopped hating them.

Remarkably, I made more friends, experienced significantly less acne problems, developed a serious relationship with a seriously hot boy (I thought he was a man until I looked at those pictures we developed a couple weeks ago.  Shoot, he was just a kid!), and became magnificently graceful!

Okay, that last one was a lie wishful thinking.

Yesterday as my son slept on the floor next to the couch, I had to snap a picture.  This angle isn’t the best to see it, but my son is SO tiny!  He has the littlest bones and the tiniest frame.  The best part about his body is his big rolly-polly head.  I love to watch him walk around.  I’ve got my very own LIVE little bobble-head.
As I sat and watching him sleep, I looked over his thin little body and I couldn’t help but think of “My Big, Fat, Greek Wedding” when Toula’s aunt pinched someone’s (can’t remember whose) collar bone and says, “I could snap you like a chicken!”

I love my little guy. I love that he is sleeping less (though he is sleeping now) and I love that he woke up throwing punches about thirty minutes ago. Must’ve been SOME dream.
While he took the nap you see in the picture above, Lacy crawled on my lap. I let her, and we watched a movie together. Soon enough I looked down and noticed something.
My legs.
Guess what? I LOVE them! I LOVE my legs. I love my long, covered-in-black-hair-but-glaringly-white-underneath LEGS! They’re still long. They’re still awkward. But guess what else they are?
Best dang recliner on the block, by jingo!
They aren’t sexy, but they’re able.
Hm.
That sentence might just be the theme for my entire body. I’ll have a shirt made, shall I? Have those words emblazoned across the chest?

The last picture I have to share with you is revealing. I’m not talking about my chest anymore, so don’t get any ideas.
I’m talking about my housekeeping.
Keep in mind, I’ve been playing nurse since Jan.1, breaking only to be sick myself.
Yes, my tree is still up. I haven’t had a second to take it down, and that’s the gospel truth. But look past that, if you can, to see my daughter with my lap apron tied across her chest. She’s washing the windows with a baby wipe.
They’re so “clean” now!
Doesn’t that picture make you happy?

Well, SOMEONE has got to pick up the slack since mom’s literally fallen down on the job -might as well be Lace.