Health is such a finicky thing. Take all your vitamins, eat fruits and vegetables, have positive thoughts and you can still catch a virus. It’s good, it builds your immune system and makes you appreciate your nostrils and ability to breath even more than ever before.
But while I struggle, working up the effort to do as little as possible for things that absolutely must be done, he runs laps around the house, oblivious to having anything slow him down. When I say we need to cancel story time or skating, he cheerfully tells me he’s healthy and ready for play.
And I try to learn. To think healthy and continue my daily routine as normal, not letting my poor night’s sleep of tossing and turning to get the right nostril cleared, interfere. I admit to being a bit crankier, more exhausted, lazier and not laughing nearly as much while I heal and build my immune system. I just wish I could be more like a child, still eager to get things done and go places, making them healthier faster and simply happier the whole way through.
It’s a process, a course in patience, understanding and growth no professor or other teacher can instill on us more than our own children. To see a smile through droopy eyes, runny nose and hear a cough so small it hurts the mom more than the child, a workshop we can’t miss a moment of as we’re our only student.
And so I’ll pay attention with swollen eyes and a tissue to my nose, to the little ways my son deals with anything that comes his way in an effort to learn as I teach.
Thanks for reading,