Monday, November 12, 2012

Not a Fairy Tale At All

Once upon a time there was a youngish mother who was often mistake as the babysitter (thank you, instagram friends for this reminder)
 This mother has two children:
 And all was going well until one of her children became quite ill THE SAME DAY that Daddy went out of town for a business conference:
This mother immediately took her little girl to the doctor and was given the privilege of waiting (a very long time) in a tiny room with one extremely sick girl and one overly hyper boy.
 But the wait was not without its reward as at long last the little girl had some magical antibiotics which meant that she finally got the extra rest that she needed while her brother set into motion his long range plan for trouble.
 He wrote about it all in his own secret blog that he wouldn't let the mother read and looked at her crossly when she asked to see it.
It was a long, rough recovery for the poor little girl.
 It required lots of cuddles and TV, not necessarily in that order.
 Then, just when the mother thought she might go crazy from trouble-making brother and very sick sister combined with the fact that they couldn't leave their house for pretty much the entire week...
...sister gradually started to feel better.
and wanted to wear something other than last year's Christmas PJs. Anything else, really.
 And then the icing on this cake of awesomeness (which is of course chocolate) is that Daddy came home.
which was cause for celebration
 and an "I CAN LEAVE MY HOUSE AGAIN" not-at-all fake or ridiculous looking pose on the jungle gym.
The point of this long and overly dramatic story? (oh goodness I hope there's a point)

That youngish mother of the two children hopes that somebody is still reading her blog even though she disappeared off of the face of the bloggy world last week. 

Because she was thinking of you. And this blog. But just didn't have the words to describe being caught in the throes of the mundane/sick/mischievous/disaster-filled week...

Also, she wanted to mention that she feels like it's super weird to talk about herself in the third person, but now that she's started she's not really sure how to she'll be back later. But soon later. Not a week later. Promise.

So if you're still there...blink twice, smile, or.....wait a minute...I give up- wait SHE gives up...whatever...we're done here...


  1. :). :)
    Was it blink or smile twice ?

  2. I loved this story. Third person story telling is so much more objective. I also like seeing the photos of the mother. Now I can see the resemblance between your children and yourself.


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