First, I'm writing this just as the fever is breaking and I'm turning from a shivering lump of worthlessness to a sweaty lump of worthlessness. It peaked at about 103 about an hour ago, and it's putting up a tough fight against the ibuprofen.
When I'm in the throes of illness, I feel horrible, not just because I'm sick, but because I suddenly feel like the intricate balance of life that I've established comes crashing down on me. Classes start tomorrow and I'm trying to figure out how I can get Maxine to school in the morning (it's our week to carpool), make it to my classes at least to hand out the syllabi and make an appearance, and then how to turn around and do it all over again (meanwhile there are about 100 little things that only I know about to do downstairs, where I made an appearance for about 5 minutes earlier today).
In our house we have a role reversal going on the illness factor. Brent is tough and sucks it up, doesn't turn into a whiney baby when he's sick. Me? I'm a blubbering fool (like when I slipped on the stair to our bed today and it crashed into both of my shins, I screamed, I cried, and now I have a bruise the size of a tennis ball on my left leg -- it's insult to injury, or it's injury to insult in this case).
OK, enough pity for me. The fact that I'm up and writing this is evidence that things will be OK and I can see that I will survive another day. That's a 101.0 and going down fever talking. The 103 fever was the one telling me I'm a failure.
Maxine is about to lose her front tooth and while I'm excited and I can't wait for the thing to come out (it's flapping around a bit, not quite ready for the final yank, but loose to the point of no return), it's another one of those forever changes (what isn't when young children are growing up?). I can remember when she got her first teeth in, I was so happy for her and so sad all at once. Her sweet little toothless grin was forever changed.
Now she's going from those cute little baby teeth to the big teeth that will overtake her mouth for a few years until the rest of her grows into her big-girl teeth.
I don't think I really experienced "bittersweet" until I had kids.
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