So, for the second weekend in a row, I seem to have a sickie. Hmmm. I don't know what is going on here, except for perhaps what my friend calls a malaise. You have to say it dramatically: "A malaaaaaaaaise..." Maybe my personal, pregnancy induced malaise is catching? Maybe my house needs to be cleaned deeply because the pregnancy induced malaise has made housework seem even more unappealing than ever. Maybe my children are suffering from malnutrition because their mother, previously chef of 3 fine meals a day, has decided the cereal does NOT have it's origins in the devil's kitchen. Also, toast, pancakes or oatmeal. I mean really, if there were only breakfast foods, I would be fine, because the are bland and comforting. But they do lack vegetables. And we have those coming out our ears since it's harvest time (thank you Gathering Together Farm for feeding my family.) So at some point, I do end up with something other than breakfast--although Mr. Doggett did manage to put an amazing variety of those veggies in the omlette I beseeched him to make for me. More breakfast.
I wonder when it is, exactly, in the life of a Mother when you can take one look at your kid and know that they are sick, or going to be sick. I guess it probably happens early on, when we spend all those hours staring at our babies, because we just can't get over how perfectly adorable and amazing they are. I still do that sometimes, now, of course. We all do, I'm sure. Lucy wants to know, how do I know for sure that Eleanor is sick. "Well, Lucy, when was the last time Eleanor took a 4 hour nap and didn't eat supper?" But, I knew well before then, when she was sort of sliding around the house looking gray earlier in the day, and when she was quiet all day yesterday. This whole mom trip is pretty amazing if ever I stop long enough to think about it, which these days, while attempting to nap myself out of my malaise, I often do.
Kids, they inhabit our bodies for the better part of a year. Really though, when they are growing in there, they are also growing their very own room inside of our hearts, and it just grows bigger and bigger with time. Now, I have a mansion filled with their precious spirits. Sometimes, often, I feel so thankful for the new little room growing as this new little spirit and body grows inside me, even as I cover my head with the comforter and moan. How lucky I am to have the opportunity to open my heart to another magical being.
Now, I have to go eat a bowl of cereal. And I will sign off with this photo of an Indian Paintbrush from the Mary's Peak Meadow (the banner photo is also from Mary's Peak.)