I’m lying in bed as I write this. While my family is at one of the season’s last soccer games (okay so maybe I’m not disappointed to be missing soccer game #326 of this spring.) And I’m in a weird place. A scratchy chest, coughing, piercing headache kind of place. I am flat out sick.

It’s supposed to be the start of summer around here. Memorial Day weekend. With cookouts and pools opening and schools closing. Not tissues and ibuprofen and coughing attacks.

Though you wouldn’t know I’m on Day 3 of sick based on the way I’ve been living. Like moms so often do, I’ve tried to maintain my typical cooking, cleaning, driving schedule, just while feeling kind of crappy (I apologize for the sloppy use of crappy, but my mind is not clear and I can think of no better word.) In other words (yes please, thank you), I’ve been trying to maintain normal though my body has been screaming to stop.

I have no insights on being a mom who is not feeling well (again foggy mind makes for lack of thoughtfulness and ability to articulate). More I have random feelings. Confessions about what I’m thinking about and what I want.

I offer a sampling of my random thoughts:

All of this sitting is making me notice things that need to get done around here. I got out of bed a few minutes ago to wash the sliding glass door because I couldn’t take it anymore. I can’t remember the last time that door got cleaned, but piercing headache means it must be done now. Obviously.

I wish we didn’t get a dog. Most days I can tolerate the mess. Today, she is getting in the trash and throwing up chewed up underwear and I’m questioning my most basic decision making skills.

I would give my, …anything… (favorite shoes, iphone, remote – oh no I might need the remote)…  for a half-gallon of Rocky Road right about now. There must be some kind of delivery service I can call on that does that. We live in the city. Those things exist, right?

I forget to stop. Even when I’m sick, which is probably why I’ve gotten worse in the last 24-hours. Stopping, stopping. Resting, resting. Things I hear (and write) so much about and yet my fallback is motion, movement, doing. It’s catching up. Constant doing is not so productive it turns out.

I wonder how people live with chronic pain. How moms who have chronic illness manage their lives. I am grumpy. G.R.U.M.P.Y. because I don’t feel well. But I am trusting it’s going to be better in the next few days. But what if I couldn’t count on that?

I just Googled flu symptoms.

I did warn you, no major insights here. Just a little normalizing that when mom is sick she doesn’t act normal. Not normal mom (all lovey and supportive…ahem, right?) And not normal sick person. No sleeping all day. (I made the chicken noodle soup the other night, only moms make their own soup. We’re a funny bunch.)

Anyway – happy start to summer. May your drinks be tall and your naps long.