I just finished reading Pollyanna. Yes, really. Don’t judge, it was in a big shipment of books that someone sent me, and since people always joked – I think it was the lady who sent the books in particular who did that, actually – by calling my mother Pollyanna, I figured I had to read it. It’s about an insufferably sweet child who plays this game called the Glad Game and teaches it to everyone she meets. The game is about finding something in everything to be glad about, no matter how shit the situation may be. Sounds like something out of Oprah’s magazine right, but. Well, at the risk of sounding too cutesy, it’s a good game. Let’s play.
I don’t have much time to write so I’ll just say this. I’m sick. I’m fucking sick, and it sucks. I’m so tired that I fell asleep on the couch* while the girl was watching a show and then asked Stephen to take her out so I could nap. Later on after she DIDN”T NAP THANKS *SO* MUCH FOR THE SYMPATHY KID, he looked after her while I had a hot bath. Tea, Neo citran, Tylenol – nothing much is helping.
But the question here is – What am I glad for?
I’m glad that it’s just a cold, it’s not serious. That it’ll go away.
I’m glad my asthma is under control.
I’m glad that I’m the one who is sick and not Stephen, or the baby. (That’s not entirely altruistic – never mind the fact that I’d never want my kid sick, right, but it’s easier to be sick and taking care of a healthy baby than worrying about a sick baby that you can’t really do much to comfort.)
I’m glad I got sick on the weekend when Stephen is home to help.
I’m glad he’s such a hands on Dad, that he’s always spent lots of time with the baby – she loves being around him. He’s different than Mum, and she still misses me after awhile, but she’s very happy with him especially, I think, because he IS different from Mum. They have their own games, their own things to laugh over, their own ways of bonding and cuddling. I’m glad that all the time he’s spent with her has built a strong connection between them, that they don’t need me as a buffer.
I’m glad that I’m getting sick now, and not when I’m at my parent’s house or traveling alone with a toddler.
I’m glad that I have a nice house to be sick in – illness is just so much shittier when you’re stuck being sick in a dump.
I’m glad that it’s warm here so that I can open the windows and get fresh air.
I’m glad we can afford medicine.
I’m glad I can get sick without worrying that having to go to the doctor could bankrupt me.
*Stephen just informed me that baby had a piece of shredded carrot stuck in her belly button. Just thought I’d take a second to share that with you.
I’m glad that even though she hasn’t had a nap that she’s still running around and being funny and happy. I’d have been glad for her to have taken a nap too, but at least I know she’ll sleep well and go down to sleep all the more easily for it – and. Well, you know, now that I think of it, I’d rather have it that way.
Maybe it’s not a shit thing, being sick today. It’s uncomfortable – but I’ve had a lot of alone time, and Stephen and Éowyn got to spend some extra time together, without Mum.
All the same, I’m pretty over it.
*upon further consideration this may have had something to do with the way I mixed Tylenol Cold&Flu and Benadryl. Man. I used to drink this vile concoction of beer and whiskey – yes mixed – and I’d chase it down with Nyquil cough syrup. I mean, obviously I wasn’t right in the head to be doing that, but damn. I could drink that shit all night – I wouldn’t remember much about it the next morning but it didn’t knock me on my ass. And look at me now – passing out over the prescribed dose of a cold medication. Guess I have to re-evaluate my tolerance.