Next, came the was the torrential downpour with a side of basement flooding. Ugh. The great majority of the evening was spent cleaning up the water and throwing out things that were destroyed by it.
Lastly, of course, it was my turn to be sick. Getting home from work, I felt like a limp noodle. No energy to make dinner or even really sit up right. Thankfully, hubs thought to just warm up some chicken noodle soup from a can - to my dismay the kids' favorite - to make it simple. Then, I crawled into bed. My three girls came to join me as we hadn't seen each other all day. Daddy came, too, trying to get some work done on the computer.
Slowly, the light in the room got softer. Izzy told me stories. I got to choose between romantic, funny, adventures, and scary. She slowly caressed my head, which rested in her lap, as I often do to her as she is falling asleep. Her little sisters played with a pink music box that had a ballerina spinning to Swan Lake when opened. They played with that box for an hour. Then they played with the marbles that were around the potted plant, pretending they were people. Ultimately, they ended up in bed, too, wanting turns under the covers. We were distracted with the snuggling and hiding and tickling and giggling.
All of a sudden it was dark and 8:30. How quickly the hours had passed. "Can we do it again tomorrow?" Izzy asked.
"You mean just hang out in bed?"
"Yes, it was the best night ever."
Just goes to show how little they need and how nuts we drive ourselves doing things we think will make them happier, smarter, better adjusted, have an edge, etc. It was a good lesson to me, a good reminder.
The kids just need us and nothing more complicated then that.