Survival Mode is the acceptance of everything normally banned.
Extensive TV time?
Unregulated iPad time?
Not putting away toys?
Not cleaning up after meals?
We have been in RED ALERT SURVIVAL MODE.
Aaron has bronchitus
and I thought I had strep,
but it ended up being "just" tonsillitis.
And I was on my own.
Adam was held hostage by Big Law Firm World.
My parents were both working.
Adam's parents are in Florida for the winter.
My one sister is still in highschool.
And the other sister was in DC.
And my in-laws are also dual-working parents.
No one was coming to our rescue.
Dinner: Annie's Mac&Cheese
Extensive TV Time:
unlimited Thomas, 101 Dalmations, and Lion King.
Over and over and over again.
(So much that I called my Dad and begged him to send some of our Disney VHS-converted-to-DVD movies over)
Picking Up the House:
Well, let's just say, Adam came home from work and gasped:
"Wow, you really ARE sick."
There was not a space left un-destroyed.
Every dish on the counter.
Every crumb on the floor.
Every toy out of its basket.
Alongside all the used tissues that didn't make it to the trash.
Oh, and work?
The proper lingo is: "I'm not feeling well so I'm going to work from home."
My email to my colleagues: "I'm home sick. If there is an emergency, call my cell."
Code: DON'T TALK TO ME.
To quote Elsa, I just LET IT GO.
A month back,
I confessed that sick people annoy me.
And now I truly believe that comment is coming back to haunt me.
Because I've been sick twice in the past two weeks,
when usually I'm sick twice a year.
I have turned into one of THOSE sick people.
And it sucks, man, it totally sucks.
Really though, I need to give some serious credit.
Through all MY whining and bitching and moaning,
Aaron has been amazing.
Like seriously, I give MAJOR props to my child.
He stills clings to "Mama"
as in, never-more-than-11-inches-away-from-me-at-all-times,
but he's had a great disposition.
With bronchitis, he was put on a nebulizer,
which I'm positive was constructed from a medieval torture device.
When they showed me at the doctor's office,
it scared the crap out of ME.
But Aaron has blown-me-away with his cooperation.
We have to do it every 4 hours.
I tell him: "Aaron, it's time for the mask."
He gets agitated and immediately fetches his favorite stuffed monkey,
But no resistance.
We settle down (with monkey) for a Thomas or 101 Dalmatians ("doggie movie").
I have the medicine in the mask ready to go, strap on his face, and press go.
And we sit for 8-10 minutes.
He sits perfectly still.
No fighting. No head-jerking. No resistance.
When it's all done, we CHEER SO LOUDLY.
"Aaron did a GREAT job with the mask!"
And he always claps his hands and says:
"Yay, mask! Yay, Aaron!"
because he knows he did a good job.
And I'd be totally lying if it didn't bring tears to my over-tired-mom-eyes.
It's by far the proudest I've ever been of him.
(Second proudest was when he ate sushi with me.)
So that's how our survival mode week has gone.
And I shall leave with this awesome commercial here: