Mairs Momilies

Most of my week was spent here, on the sofa, trying to motivate myself to move in some direction or another. Tad took this picture because he thought it was funny to see all of the sickies lined up on the sofa together, although Ruth and Miriam technically weren't sickies at this point (it seems Miriam may have spent her day today succombing to the current plague). Ben's dizziness has finally cleared up and he's been fine for a couple of days now. JT was the only one to throw up - guess he needed to shake up the symptoms a bit but Philip takes the cake. He's not able to read his own body signals nor is he able to determine what is appropriate behavior for any given situation so he took a good look around him and decided to imitate what everyone else had done when things started to feel not so right about the gills. He spent an entire afternoon clutching at his throat dramatically and seeing how far into the back of his head his eyeballs could roll. When he got done with that routine, he decided to walk about with a limp. I'm not sure how this incarnation of the common cold involves a hip injury but he discovered one. The hip injury was followed by the Hurt Look Whenever Someone Asks Me To Move. I did try to refrain my requests for physical activity from him until after he'd spent three days straight laying on the chair with a blanket over his head but even at that he developed quite an indignant attitude at the mere mention of putting his dish in the dishwasher. I'm glad, in some demented way, that I seem to have taken the worst of this foul disease because it has helped me to gauge everyone else's symptoms a bit and have sympathy - or lack thereof - accordingly. David landed at the pediatrician today for an antibiotic to deal with the developing ear infection and I finally straggled my way in to see my doctor who also prescribed an antibiotic. My throat has been so flaming sore that sleep has become torture. I'm hoping that, while no one else seems to be dealing with a bacterial infection, the rawness of my throat is indicative of something different from what the others are suffereing and will be relieved soon by the antibiotics.

Tad's been doing a great job playing Dr. Mom for us all. He stayed home from work on Monday and Tuesday when I was nowhere near ambulatory. By Wednesday I was on my own and we've been just barely making it every day since. The whole thing is compounded by the laryngitis caused by this sore throat of mine. I haven't spoken above a whisper in several days. At least I don't have to answer the phone...although I've had Adora making dr appts for me and fielding the must-do phone calls.

The combination of laryngitis and Mr. Dr. Mom has its pitfalls, though. My dear husband is the most helpful human being in the world as long as he has tons of words to go by. No just making up supper for this guy, he needs a recipe. And a simple point to that there and point to that place over there will not get the job done. He needs a detailed description of what to pick up, it's current location and description and just as much detail about where to put it, when and why. The words he requires are tough to provide with no voice. The other day he went off to make lunch with the instructions to make peanut butter and cream cheese crackers. I tried to squeek out that he needs to ask the children which one they would prefer but he was off with a mission before he heard anything else. Some time later I wandered into the dining room to find a lot of uneaten lunch (a rarity in these parts). A close examination of the leftovers revealed this:

Yep, crackers smothered with cream cheese and topped with peanut butter and another cracker. The ew factor alone made me turn around and walk right back out of the room. To his credit, this man's father raised him with the belief that if foods share space in the refrigerator they can certainly share space in a casserole - or, apparantly, on a cracker.