Sick chicken

When I was sick as a kid, my mom would cuddle me and say, "My poor sick chicken!"  I have no idea the significance of it, but... I have a poor sick chicken!  Dollface has woken up with what I suspect is strep throat for the third time in about 6 months, I think.  I feel so bad for her.  I also feel bad for me, because I have two other children to take care of, and I have to call a friend on her birthday and re neg on watching her little one so she could attend a funeral, and a house where laundry and dishes are competing in a how-tall-can-they-get contest, and a hubby who's out of town at the moment.  And is that a tickle in my throat, too, or is it just the power of suggestion and my own little pity party? "Debbie Downer" (a term I wish I'd coined myself, Gillian) has reared her ugly head here today.

I'm reminded of an email I've received occasionally... I'm sure you've seen it, something to the effect of, I'm grateful I'm so busy, because it means I'm needed; I'm grateful for that leaky faucet because it means I have a roof over my head; etc.  I truly am blessed.  I have 3 great kids.  I have good friends who know they can (usually!) depend on me.  I  have a roof over my head in this cold weather.  I am very much needed.  I have a wonderful husband who's working hard in a job he's less than pleased with to support us all... which also brings me to the excellent (not universal!) health care I have in case of times when one or more of us is under the weather.  I really do have it good.

I gotta go hug my sick chicken now (and then use some hand sanitizer).