Mom takes a sick day, the household tries to adjust

Many months ago (clear back during the second week of school) I attempted to start an exercise regime. Before summer made exercise scheduling difficult, I'd been regularly moving my body 4-5 times a week. I assumed that I'd easily go back to the same schedule now that I'd figured out some sort of routine for the new school year. Well you know what assuming will get you . . . . . . absolutely nothing.

 

On the day I started my new "routine" I injured my ankle. It was a common occurrence and I just thought I'd work around it. After 2 months of only being able to wear one pair of shoes and being unable to walk on any uneven surface or down stairs without pain I finally made myself visit the doctor. The very nice doctor said, yep you hurt yourself. It wasn't just a sprain. I was going to spend the next several days/weeks with my ankle wrapped and in a boot and off my foot as much as possible. I'd already been "off my foot as much as possible" for two months since doing much of anything hurt, so that meant to rest it I was going to be completely off my foot.

 

My sweet husband agreed and banished me to the couch for the remainder of the week. With Mom on the couch/in bed/taking muscle relaxers for the week that meant Dad was going to be in charge. So he did the dishes, cooked dinner, cleaned the house, and did the laundry. He was totally He-Man and She-Ra all week. My kids had stepped up and helped when they could, but by the end of the week the entire family was ready for Mom to get back to work.

 

#1 had a cold and the meanest mom on the block wouldn't let him stay home/come home from school. #3 also had the sniffles. #4 had a big case of grumpy whiny pants. Luckily #2 stayed her same pleasant self. Unfortunately by yesterday Dad had caught the cold from #1 and was down for the count. As we lay in bed that morning, I put my hands on Dad's face and said, "You must get better TODAY, the house can not take both of us out of commission."

 

It was during this state of desperation that a miracle occurred. Even though #1 was still fighting his cold, he put on all of his snow clothes himself and shoveled the driveway. Occasionally the kids have offered to "help" when I attempted this same task. Their help usually involved tromping through the fresh driveway/sidewalk snow and making a generally mess of things. Then ten minutes after I've just spent 45 getting them all ready, they are done and want hot chocolate. #1 worked on the driveway for almost an hour. He did an impeccable job and even put down ice melt on the extra frozen places. He didn't even ask for extra allowance (well until I cried because he was being such a good kid - and then he was just being smart).

 

I'm so happy that we reached a point I didn't think existed. Mom can be done for the count and the household still runs. There was food to eat, clean dishes to eat on, clean clothes to wear, and a shoveled driveway. I don't think I could ask for anything more.