sickos

  My babies are sick. It is a rare thing for me to be able to mother them. They simply won't stand for it on the day to day. So a tiny part of me rejoices when fever sets in & they are mine again. They want the back rubs, the books read to them. Along with gatorade & popsicles, because that is the sick ritual 'round these parts. At my house growing up it was 7-up and vanilla ice cream. More than a time or two I feigned illness to stay home, tended to by my mom.
 I had to shift by a mile to become this caregiver, you know. I was not known for my great empathy or compassion. It seems so unfair then, that just as I came to love it, the boys seem to have such little need for my nurture. But those changes are more for us parents anyhow. That is why grandparents are such lovely folks. They have been molded & shaped over time. They've figured out the really good parts to focus on & what bits are best left unsaid. And they never are short on sugary treats, which, let's face it are the best remedy for a bad day.
  I am struck by the middle place I am residing in. Not yet gray and wise but not so enthused & hopeful as in my younger days. A lot of "press on" but, "enjoy the present!" And all the while not forgetting the past.     It is a mad pull from all angles.

 What about you, moms? How do you deal with the exhaustion? The loneliness? The fears?