I often wonder how my mother managed to raise all nine of us without losing her mind. There are 13 years separating me from my oldest sister, but only 8 1/2 years between the 8 oldest. That's a lot of clingy and whiny little people to minister to all at once. This week was the most recent time in my life when I was in awe of Mom and her inner strength.
The viruses that run rampant in elementary schools descended upon our house to wreak havoc this week. We’ve run the gamut from fever and congestion to, well, the more unpleasant of flu-like symptoms. I had both Milo and Neva home for three days with fever. I spent my days getting water, propping up pillows, warding off, taking temperatures, giving Tylenol and putting on movies. I’ve been awake through the wee hours 3 nights in a row blowing noses, giving more Tylenol, snuggling them back to sleep and, like last night, stripping beds and doing laundry.
Getting up to send Neva off to school this morning was not high on my priority list, yet I dragged myself out of bed (correction: Willa dragged me out of bed) and started the day. And that’s when I thought of Mom. She was always up before us; only once in my life do I remember her sleeping in. If she was ever sick, I don’t remember it. But she once had 8 kids at the same time with whooping cough. When chicken pox and measles hit, it was never isolated to one child. And I know I was a lot older than my kids were before I could hit the bucket!
But Mom always carried on – being sick is part of life and looking after sick kids is part of raising them. She still managed to get lunches made, laundry done and a hot homemade dinner on the table. (We never had take out in those days). So why do I struggle through the day, pining for my pillow and wishing someone else would cook tonight?
Well, maybe Mom did struggle, just not shamelessly as I do. And I’m sure she would rather have had a nap and ordered in pizza. I’ll never be a Super Mom, but next time I’m feeling tired because the kids were sick, I’ll think of my mother and draw from her strength, her endurance.
So, to Mom I say: Thank you for taking such great care of us, even when you really needed a break. And I’m sorry I threw up on you!
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
