not speaking

I'm still not speaking. Technically, I am... but only when I have to. When I do try to speak, my voice is small & scratchy-painful sounding. When I don't, I have gotten quite good at pantomime & general hand gestures (no, not those hand gestures!)

I've had 5 days without a real voice. Five. Days. I have been flat-out sick for a few of those days, though today I'm finally able to get up and around a bit. I'm still hardly able to talk. Five days without reading stories. Five days without singing. Five days of headaches. Five days of missing most of the noisy, silly moments in our life, and five days without laughing out loud. Five days of drinking twelve million cups of tea (which may only be a slight overstatement).

Five days isn't a long time, but it's long enough, in my opinion.

I've learned some rather ugly things about myself, in the midst of my silence...

1. I raise my voice to get the attention or obedience of my children. This must happen more often than I realized. Far. Too. Often. Hopefully we've built some good new habits over the past five days.
2. I am not a very sympathetic sick person. When Mr. Kenobi came down with a similar cold a couple days ago, I actually felt annoyed with him for getting sick at the same time as me. As if I have "dibs" on sick time around here.
3. I do not like sitting quietly, nor laying down, especially for long periods of time. I get cabin fever easily.
4. I am willing to watch TV, even when I'm not interested in the show.
5. I have a limited attention span for chicken soup.

On the other hand, I've learned some really beautiful things about people around me. My neighbors are gems; they've taken the boys to school, play dates, and generally out of the house so I could rest. They've offered dinner and grocery trips. I love living here! Moreover, in the midst of being sick, I've been nurtured and loved by my family. In particular, I was blessed by a sweet moment of thoughtfulness from Obi-1 yesterday.

It was around 8 am, and I dragged myself out of bed so I could get the boys ready to go (with a neighbor) to a kids' program. Mr. Kenobi was stuffed up and miserable, and didn't want to get out of bed. The boys needed breakfast. They also needed sack lunches made for later. They needed to get dressed. Mr. Kenobi needed some hot tea to help him find his way back to the land of the living. Somebody had to do all these things... NOW.

So, I grumpily pulled myself out of bed, coughed and wheezed downstairs, and put on some oatmeal for the boys and turned on the kettle for hot water. I tromped back upstairs, helped the boys get some clothes out of drawers & on their bodies, then pointed them to brush their hair. I collected their school bags, activity bags, and made sure I'd unloaded the old projects before they went back for refills. Barely able to whisper, I instructed the kids back downstairs for breakfast, and began fixing their lunches while brewing a cup of tea for Mr. Kenobi. The dishes hadn't been finished last night, so I started loading the dishwasher & cleaning the counter. I was grumpy, and sick, and tired. So tired, in fact, that I hardly noticed as Obi-1 watched me with great interest. Finally, he spoke...

"Mama, what are you doing?"

"I'm getting breakfast for you, making tea for Daddy, and trying to get things done so you can start your day."

"Are you sick, Mama?"

"Yes, honey. I am. But somebody needs to take care of this family." I hoarsely reasoned with a 5-year-old.

He was thoughtful a moment. Then, the gem: "but who will take care of you, Mama?"

That is the question, isn't it? Who will take care of Mama? I thought of all the times my own mother, and hers before her, and many mothers I know, have struggled through illness or exhaustion to take care of others. This seems to be one of the least-glamorized pieces of motherhood. His question, and the thoughtful love behind it, moved my heart. He was worried about his Mama. Who would take care of her?

I struggled to give an adequate answer. "God will take care of me, sweetie. I'm going to be better, soon." I turned to continue the peanut-butter sandwiches, thinking my little Sunday School answer would satisfy him. Of course it didn't.

"But... who will make you tea?"

He is wise, that Obi-1. Wise, and loving. :)

The reality is, I do have to take care of myself. (Frankly, that's why I was sending him & his brother off with the neighbor and going back to bed soon.) The reason I got this sick was because I was going, going, going... 104 miles an hour, and a minor cold caught me in the midst of exhaustion. I knew I was more susceptible to illness when I'm pregnant, yet I didn't really stop to take care of myself.

Getting sick, and losing my voice, and having to be reminded of basic values by my five-year-old... Maybe the past five days weren't a total loss, after all. It is a good reminder about caring for my children & family. If I'm going to be of any good to the Kenobis, I need to be healthy. If I'm going to be healthy, some things will have to wait. Somebody has to take care of Mama, too.