And While We're on the Topic ...

Despite the phone ringing three times this afternoon, I did manage to squeeze in a few quality Zzz's -- and while I am far from my usual bubbly self, I do feel that was another small step in the right direction. After nearly a week of Grandma and Grandpa withdrawal, Grace was dying to go upstairs to see her pals, and I (and they) obliged. I can hear her thumping around at this moment, feeling so much better. It's almost a sad thing to see her light go out when she's sick -- and how truly radiant she is when feeling much better.

My house now is oddly quiet. With Grace upstairs and Aidan at a birthday party, I feel quite lonesome. What's that saying ... you know how much you truly miss something when you don't have it anymore. As much as I gripe and whine (yes, whine -- and I wonder why my kids do it?!) about how many times I want to pull my hair out during a given day, how many times I have to referee my squabbling kids, how many times ... But boy, I do miss them when they're not around. They are -- in a good way -- a huge part of my current identity, so when the daily vibe is interrupted it feels ... so strange. I can say with heartfelt honesty that I really, really do miss Aidan right now. And I can also say that I'm sure he could care less. :)

I managed to squeak out just enough energy during this quiet hour to pick up around the living room. That's right -- when Mommy's down and out, so is the entire household (and not just the people living in it). While I was -- oh, so slowly -- picking up paper and crayons, Speed Racers and tea sets, and the myriad of plastic medical implements that have been used on all of us during the course of this week, I remembered being sick as a child, and a few particulars stood out. I recalled doing absolutely nothing -- and I mean, nothing. If I'm not mistaken, when I got sick, I really got sick, so all I could usually manage was remaining in bed and sleeping for hours on end. Oh, and the medicine ...

Coca-Cola Syrup -- does anyone remember that stuff? Thick -- uncomfortably thick -- sweet, almost nauseating ... I can't even remember what we used it for, but I can still taste it. Not necessarily bad, but just so ... weird!

Chewable aspirin -- orange flavored, I believe. St. Joseph's, maybe? I can picture the box on my mother's counter. I didn't mind those little things, but before the chewables came ...

The nasty, dreaded, chalky, regular aspirin! OK -- whose mother did this, other than mine: I remember that I always had a hard time swallowing pills. I guess I have an over-active gag reflex or something, but I just couldn't handle swallowing things, especially when I was sick and my throat felt fiery raw and swollen. Forget it. I can distinctly remember crying hysterically when I had to swallow those things, sick as a dog, finally giving it a try, feeling that hard lump of scratchy nastiness getting wedged in between my swollen tonsils, crying some more, choking it up ... oh, the horror! Still embedded in my brain, clearly. So my mother's solution was to -- oh, and I can still see her doing this so clearly! -- putting a small square of waxed paper on the kitchen counter and laying that horrid little white Tablet of Evil in the middle. She then mushed the tablet with the back of a spoon, her thumb pressed firmly against the curved center, until the waxed paper was covered in a mound of fine, white powder. She then poured that chalky powder into a small bowl of (unsweetened) applesauce, mixed it around, and gave it to me to eat. I can still feel that strange texture, the applesauce not completely masking that strong, bitter taste of aspirin, a fruity treat that was once smooth and pleasing had an unnatural grainy, gritty feel on my tongue ... But hey -- it worked. I guess.

Now my kids get neat little plastic cups, sweet berry medicinal concoctions that taste like liquid candy. And Aidan still has the audacity to squeal and cry when he sees me coming with a little cup full of cough syrup, which, unlike Tylenol, is "too spicy!" Too spicy, my foot ... try gagging on mashed aspirin, my boy!

Ah, yes, even illnesses can bring on fun (or not so much) memories. What tales of childhood horror do you have hidden in your cranial medicine cabinets? What was your mother's drug of choice back then? Were you one of the lucky ones who was given a shot of whiskey to cure ... whatever that happened to cure? Don's mother used to make him put Vick's Vapor Rub up his nose to clear out his congestion ... ouch! Think I'll stick to mashed aspirin in applesauce.