Sick Days

Sick days are no longer what they once were. For some reason, misery loves company, and when I'm sick, Jace is as well. Of course, nothing has compared to the first time I was a sick mother. But, this is still torture.

It used to be, when I was sick, my dad would get me whatever I wanted to eat (usually McDonald's, Cream of Wheat or pancakes). I would watch chick flicks all day. Nap at my own leisure. Take a long, warm bath. Do. Nothing.

Things are a bit different now. I resort to finding whatever is in the freezer because I feel too awful to leave the house for myself. I've traded chick flicks for "Go, Diego,Go". And my long, warm bath is a quick rinse off because Jace is throwing toilet paper rolls into my shower.

It's bad enough I have to fend for my own survival, but Jace has to be sick, too? He can't just be normal, independent Jace. He has to be miserable, if I'm awake I need to be held, give me Tylenol every 4 hours or else my temperature will blow up the thermometer, Jace.

I miss the sick days where it was all about me.

But, there's a twisted part of me that loves this Jace, who reminds me he still needs his mama.

Then there's the part of me that still needs mine.

I mean. I am 18 years old in my head. And I would've been the perfect candidate for Teen Mom.

But that's neither here nor there. The beast is asleep. I'm going to take a nap now.