Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures

So I feel pretty good... it's the end of November and I haven't been truly down-and-out sick once this season. I had the beginnings of a cold several weeks ago, but I downed Airborne and Emergen-C powder and was able to keep the severe symptoms at bay. The kids have all been sick more than once each and I haven't even been infected by them!

This morning, however, I woke to the classic scratchy throat and burning sensation in your sinuses that are the tell-tale signs of a developing upper respiratory situation. And it felt like it meant business. But I am on an illness-free roll and I am not about to break it! Not only does being sick present a major hindrance to my duties as wife and mother, but it also makes going to work a real chore. And tomorrow is Monday... one of my two "at the office" work days. And deadlines don't do sick days. And it's the first day back to reality after a blissful six day break from reality due to the Thanksgiving Holiday.

Ugggh!

To make this cold even more inconvenient, I have a special event tonight. Jason Mraz at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville, a concert I've been looking forward to for months. Now it's here. And now I am sick... no... not sick... not yet. I am not giving up that easily.

Last year, my mom got us a sinus pot also known as a neti pot used for nasal irrigation. In India and other parts of southern Asia, rinsing your sinuses is a daily practice as common as brushing your teeth. My mom has told me for years that I should use a saltwater rinse to relieve cold and allergy symptoms, but in recent years experts have recommended cleansing the sinuses as a means to prevent the common cold and ward off allergy symptoms. This works by washing away the virus (or the allergen) before it has time to make you sick. Actually, the daily practice of washing your nasal passages is beginning to inflitrate our Western world especially in the health nut circles. But it's been on the shelf since it arrived in our home. Being the procrastinator that I am it always seemed too complex to figure out and I simply resorted to Sudafed to do the job for me.


Today was different. I really don't want to get this cold. I am desperate! So in addition to the Emergen-C, gallons of water, and vitamins I broke out the big guns: the neti pot. As it turns out nasal irrigation is a pretty simple process, just fill the pot with warm water, add sea salt, stick the spout in your nose and pour. The water flows up your nose, through your sinuses and out the other nostril. Don't swallow while you are pouring or you'll feel like you are drowning. I learned that the hard way.

For some reason, I keep humming I'm a Little Teapot.

It remains to be seen if this experiment will be a success. If not there's always Sudafed.

Song for a Fifth (or Third) Child

I received part of this poem framed and matted as a baby gift when I was pregnant with Holden. It's how I felt about him, then Emeline, and more than ever Owen. With all the things I try to get done and all the things I HAVE TO get done this poem's been on my mind lately. So I finally found the poem in it's entirety and want to share it.

It's entitled Song for a Fifth Child. Published in 1938 in Ladies' Home Journal.

Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth
empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
hang out the washing and butter the bread,
sew on a button and make up a bed.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I've grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).
The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew
and out in the yard there's a hullabaloo
but I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren't her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).

The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
for children grow up, as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.

by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton

Playing Catch Up

Life with 3 kids is crazy. Not a day goes by that I don't think of something to write about on my blog, but weeks... months fly by that I don't get to. I know the point of blogging is doing it regularly so that people will actually read your writing. I don't do a very good job of that. But for the few of you that check in on us... thanks! Thanks for your patience and understanding.

When I feel guilty about the pile of laundry or the undone scrapbooking or the unwritten posts... I stop and think about cuddling with Owen, reading him stories, him telling me all about his cars. These are things that I wish I could record and share with everyone. They pass all too quickly as learned with Holden and Emeline. So I will be selfish once in a while and steal as many hugs and kisses from him while I can.