Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Denise and Susan Sicken Me

Denise made me cry today.

Denise is nobody I actually know.  Denise is just a mean stranger who hurt my tender feelings today.

My feeling are not usually terribly tender.  I can be tough generally.  Laugh things off.  I'm not easily offended normally.

Today is different though.  Denise, the mean and hideous on the inside random stranger, swooped in and said,

"Was just reading through your blog. Do you realize you use the word "I" more than any other blogger in the whole wide bloggerverse? Just an observation. I I I I I I I I I I I I ..."

Denise made me cry with her pointed finger pointing observation.  Actual tears I cried.  They streamed down my feverish face in an unexpected flash flood. In the muddy water of my tears were found entire uprooted trees of frustration, farm houses of pain and boulders of exhaustion.

Why does Denise the Troll have the power to wound me so today?  

Three of my four children are home today from school with strep throat.  It has been 2 weeks of battling that whore of all the earth in this house: streptococcus.

Susan S. Streptococcus is one of Satan's best women of the night.  She is no respecter of persons and will invade the body of young, old, male and female alike.  She sickens me.

Susan S. Streptococcus sneaks into unguarded orifices as a thief in the night.  Heats the body and weakens the soul.  She hides in the ice cold delight of shared popsicles and sloppy, innocent kisses among siblings and parents. She smiles and slithers from human to human and back again. 

My children today are ill and needy and feverish.  I do my best to keep them happy, comfortable and well hydrated.

There is no rest for the wicked, namely me.

And guess who else is experiencing strep-like symptoms but has been too busy caring for little ones and working her part time office job to get a culture.  Guess who?


Me is also ill. Weak.  Shakey.  Emotional.  

My throat is not swollen because 4 years ago a man with a scalpel sliced the tonsils out of my perpetually infected garganta.   The recovery was the worst physical pain I've ever experienced.

Despite my own discomfort I am focused on my sick babies.  The heat of fever and disgust with invisible germs has me cleaning like a madwoman.  

All of the linens and bedding in the house must be washed.  I MUST FIGHT THIS SUSAN STREP. I WILL DEFEAT THAT EVIL LADY OF THE NIGHT IF SHE KILLS ME!  And she just may.

Yesterday I worked at the office all the day long and rushed home to fix dinner, take the healthier children to evening church activities and spend time with my lonely man.  He is lonely when I'm away, you see. So I save the remainder of my energies for him.   After my full day I began to feel the effect of Susan and her dancing army within my weakened body.

Sleep overtook me early.  I did not check my blog or emails until today.  I hoped to be uplifted by kind comments.  I was disappointed. And hurt.

Amazing how unkind, cowardly strangers have the power to hurt another so easily in this day and age with no responsibility to be taken.   

Denise broke my overloaded back with her easy breezy just an observation comment.

I. I suppose I do write I quite a lot.  Perhaps it is because in the reality of everyday life so little is about I,  or me for that matter.  Perhaps I write I so as to remind myself I too am of worth.  In and of myself.  

I work my long tapered fingers to the bone for those I love.  HOW SELFISH OF I!  I am CLEARLY full of ME, aren't I?  To refer to myself in regards to my relationship with my family.  SELFISH!

The other day someone I dearly love was explaining to me what a good couple she thought my husband and I to be.  She said,

"When I think of how much you have progressed and how much he has progressed in life since you met I can't help but notice that he has accomplished much more than you have.  I know you are a mom and stay home so you don't have the opportunity to progress.  But HE had his own business.  HE was building multi-million dollar houses before the economy tanked...".

If you look closely you'll see that my tears today have those words written on them as well as Denise's.  I am happy my husband has done well.  I've been his little woman and helped him climb the ladder rung by rung. 

In the eyes of the world I have not progressed.  I have changed diapers and cleaned toilets for 15 years.  My resume is riddled with home cooked dinners and furniture polish.  I have been paid in hugs and smiles for my services.  

I'd like to tie this blog post up with a cute little bow.  Make it happy and share a pearl of wisdom or two.  But I am too sick and too pissed off for cute little bows.

In addition, I must feed my family dinner now.  Then I must finish washing bedding and putting mattress to sheet once again.  I must also take my one healthy child to volleyball practice in an hour.  

So you see?  I am out of time.

 I I I I I I I I