I’m sick.
Congested, body aches, watery eyes, and
looking like I was dragged behind a runaway horse for a very rocky mile.
I want my mom, but alas, she moved far away.
I messaged her today to ask her to give me one reason why she couldn’t just hop in her car and come take care of me,
but she seemed to think that driving 4 hours in terrible weather just to rub my head sounded unreasonable.
Clearly, we are not on the same page.
“Can’t you get someone THERE to rub your head?” She asked me.
She has obviously completely forgotten the reality of motherhood, where the only way to get love and nurture for yourself is to pay cold, hard cash for it.
My ten year old has a folded list in her locker of all the foot rubs she has given me,
and how much I owe her for them.
My family seems to think the main thing I am here for is food.
They will walk right by my husband, who is completely available on the couch,
to come ask me, while I am elbow deep in a chore, for a snack.
He was once watching them while I went to the next town on errands.
I was 15 miles away in my car driving when my phone rang.
I saw it was Home, so I answered to a pause, then the shocking revelation:
“I’m hungry.”
I am fairly certain I should skip a will altogether and, instead, write a thorough post-mortem meal plan, lest they all circle around my grave one day crying,
“NOW what are we supposed to eat?”
Years ago, I was the most sick I’ve ever been.
I was running a 104 fever,
and as I stood, even then, making dinner,
one of my daughters came to me,
gently put one hand on mine,
looked into my eyes and said the words every mother longs to hear:
“Try not to breathe on it too much while you stir it.”
This very afternoon, when I felt at my worst,
my 7 year old walked in the door from school and looked at me standing there with my red eyes, and hair all askew.
When she opened her mouth,
I was sure she was about to give some sort of well-wish, so I was pleased when she asked me “Are you OK?”
“I will be,” I croaked. “I just have a terrible cold.”
She looked relieved, and said,
“OK. Good!”
“How sweet!” I thought. “She does love m…..”
until she finished with
“Den can you make me a peanut butter and jelly cut in half da twiangle way?”
She walked away singing ‘Material Girl.’
My oldest daughter is currently engaged to a young man named Aaron.
Aaron, who is a unicorn.
Aaron who keeps Advil in his glove box for in case she ever has cramps.
Last week, when she had a cold and showed up at his house, he met her at the door with Starbucks, warm food,
and a freshly prepared nasal rinse.
I am here to let you know that as soon as she told me this story,
I felt like I was going to cry.
I never realized how much I desired having a person do something like preparing me a fresh nasal rinse.
It’s a strange thing to find yourself jealous of a saline squirt bottle,
but that squirt bottle in his hands was there to help heal her.
It didn’t even squirt ketchup or cheese.
Is there a truer love?
I challenge you to find one;
and if you do, come find me.
I will be here making food.
Mom Outnumbered
Hi! My name is Kerri Green; Wife to Justin, and mother to four highly entertaining daughters -Alena, Chloe, Tessa, and Paige. I am an artist, a writer, a daycare provider, a lover of people, a believer that there is humor and beauty in all things, and the author of Mom Outnumbered; a blog about real family life, and my observations of it. My goal is to make people laugh, to be there for them when they cry, and most importantly, to let them know that they are not at all alone in this up and down world. I live with my family in Sebastopol California, and I am opening the window into our life. So welcome! Come in. Sit down. Just please don’t mind the mysterious wet spots.
