We have been having a new round of sickness every other week, with the recovery period stretching into the off week, thus making everyday a sick day with differing levels of severity.
Our normally soda free house has seen many cans, bottles, and boxes of ginger ale come and go this winter. We have also consumed many boxes of ice pops, some the whole fruit type but mostly the cheap artificially colored corn syrup variety. If any of you have recently compared the price of whole fruit ice pops versus the artificially colored crap pops, and if you have a basic understanding of math fundamentals (just figure 3 ice pops consumed by 7 people a day) you'll get the gist of why we bought the scary, not really food but still soothing to a nauseous stomach, ice pops.
Yesterday however, no one seemed to have any trace of nausea, so instead of ice pops, ginger ale and saltines, we were eating healthy nourishing food. By this I mean homemade hot chocolate. Hey, I made it myself from natural ingredients, that makes it healthy, right?
Well, before I disclosed to the children that I was going to make hot chocolate, I wanted them to help me finish picking up the detritus covering the surface of the floor in their room. My two older girls were at school, but Isabella, my 6 year-old was home along with her two little brothers. Allen is not always very helpful when it comes to cleaning, being only 18 months old. He can pick things up and put them back in boxes, but it takes direction and I was looking for a speedy resolution to the whole floor covered in books, magazines, blankets, pillows, wooden blocks, stacking toys, dirty socks, toy cars, and plastic fishing game pieces situation.
Reagan however is very helpful for a 3 year-old and usually amazes me with his ability to get things done. Yesterday however was the exception. Instead of just helping picking up, he felt he needed an ice pop and some ginger ale to fortify him for the arduous task ahead. I on the other hand felt he should have taken advantage of this window of opportunity to eat his healthy breakfast before nausea strikes again.
He was clearly feeling fine, but just preferred a straight diet of corn syrup to food that requires chewing.
Amidst his whining, I came across a booklet of collected poetry for children that Isabella had been given by her teacher last year in school (thank you Mrs. Ballenski.) Inspired, I turned my pen to reflect on the events at hand.
"I just can't help pick up the floor
I am so tired
I'm sick for sure
I must lie down, I'm sick I bet
my tummy hurts
it feels upset
Oh, Mommy give me an ice pop PLEASE!"
he pleads with me
on bended knees
"I might throw up, I need help now
Is there ginger ale?
but it's gone anyhow
I then say out loud for all to hear
"Would you like some hot chocolate
The Little Sick One then calls out
"I want some too!"
and begins to pout
Then just as adamantly as before
he claims to be NOT sick