After Monday's very busy pace, I decided to try to get "ahead of the eight ball". (I'm not really sure what that means, but I've been saying it for years....help, anyone?) Philip continued to work storms like he did most of the weekend, and so I did all my Tuesday chores Monday night. Pretty sneaky, huh? Then I cleaned my desk. I went through all my piles and found quite a few items that needed attention....dentist appointments to make, invitations to RSVP, forms to return, and bills to pay. Just as I had found my sorting groove, the power went out. The girls were in bed asleep, but "Davey and Daniel" (Crockett and Boone--you know my two wild, woodsmen who wish to protect and serve in the face of certain danger) were VERY awake. They used a flashlight to gather candles and find matches. Soon our home was dimly lit, and heavily fragranced. They wanted me to read a book to them. I declined but encouraged them to tell stories from their beds. I collected several candles and placed them at varying heights around my desk. Despite the total fire hazard, I was surprised at the amount of light I was able to achieve. I finished sorting but realized paying bills online would be virtually impossible. My mind was whirling with thoughts, plans, and ideas, so I began jotting notes into a spiral. It was wonderful. Quiet, still, a little stuffy after a while, but really wonderful. By the time I was sleepy the power had been restored and I was able to sleep wonderfully under my ceiling fan.
Tuesday was super. (New job/activity chart: everyone raved) Wednesday was equally efficient until I got sicker than a dog! James was a few hours behind me, and the boys brought up the rear (no pun intended) by the middle of the night. Nasty! I think all that Clorox last week must have killed the good stuff too, 'cause this virus barged right in and knocked us out. Poor Philip--he was in such denial, that he actually got up and put on his clothes for work Thursday morning. I'm laying in bed unable to move, comforted only by the damp rag on my brow. I hear him buckling his belt. I faintly inquire, "You're not going to work, are you?" His honest, yet unrealistic response: "I'm sure as heck not stayin' here!" I thought to myself, "This man has lost his mind...I'll just give him a sec, and he'll realize he's about to leave an infant, a preschooler and a 1st grader home alone with 4 pukers....yes, It'll only take a minute, I'm sure....." Nope, he's still headin' for the door. I try sarcasm. "You go on, I'll just get up and get dressed and give it my girl scout try." His bitter reply: "You don't have one!" Well, I never! I guess he just forgot that I earned a busy bee baking patch in 1979, I'm sure I had more, but that's the only one coming to mind with a fever and all. I knew deep down that he wouldn't leave. I knew how badly he wanted to, but surely.... A few moments after he huffed out of our room, I overheard him calling his boss. I slept all day (when I wasn't in the bathroom) and he and the girls had what they later referred to as "The greatest day ever"....uninterrupted Daddy-time. Who can beat it? Later that evening he admitted that I have SEVERAL badges of courage, valor, and general greatness to my name. See, he knows. And despite his brief flirtation with going AWOL, he certainly deserves a "laundry in the middle of the night" merit badge, don't you think?
Today, everyone was back to good health. We washed everything anyone had touched or breathed on, and ate toast and applesauce at all three meals. Philip is fishing an overnight tournament tonight and has a softball tournament scheduled for tomorrow....we'll see. Regardless, we're on our own until Saturday evening. I plan to read with each child, cook ahead for the next several days, and study for Sunday School. We may load up and go watch a softball game, or we may just have to go swimming....I 'd better get some rest.
Buh-Bye
