The last few days have not been of the super-fantastic variety; although, I wouldn't qualify them as bad either. The kids came down with a bug. What strikes me though, is that I never manage to figure it out ahead of time.
Wednesday morning we did school, as normal. Except that Mooky was a mess. She cried several times and by the end of it all I was wondering how we were going to do this for 12 years.
But, by 4 o'clock she was complaining of a sore throat and Pumpkin chimed in that her eyes were sore. We snuggled on the couch and watched a video from the library. Their complaints grew and grew until I decided it was off to bed with them. Pumpkin succumbed to sleep immediately, but Mooky just rested. An hour and a half later I had cooked dinner in rare peace and my girls were happy again.
I wondered, "Was that it? Just feeling run down and in need of some rest?"
Then 11:30 PM came. It was not it. The bug attacked and poor Mooky was out for the whole day Thursday.
As she lie there, miserable, I could see with clarity the reason for all the crying the day before. Why couldn't I see it then? I truly never do. I fear, sometimes, I think my children behave badly simply to irritate me; not because there is something bigger going on.
Pumpkin seemed as if she was going to come through this almost unscathed. Just one little episode. Hubby and I marveled that she always seems to skate through the illnesses. However, by dinner time she was fit to be tied. A tantrum that would rival any two year old. I knew she was tired and tried to give her some grace, but I don't know that I gave her compassion. By the morning, she had been taken captive by the bug too. Again, I didn't see it. I couldn't equate her bad behavior with the fact that she might not be feeling well.
I wish I could see it sooner. I wish grace and compassion were always my first response.
We seem to be all on the mend now. They are back to pacing the floor and making up stories in their "Molly Bibles". I'm praying for lots of slumber in this house tonight.

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