Irony - a word I often misuse. While I can expertly apply their versus they're and affect versus effect and even then versus than, my brain cannot seem to grasp the difference between irony and coincidence. So, if I have again misused the word, you have my apologies in advance.
At this point, January 21st, I have lost track of the number of stomach bugs that had plagued my kids since the summer. I believe it to be 5 or 6. As if the one additional incident would make it any more ridiculous.
This last incident began with Ellen and claimed Ryan this morning out of nowhere. He was actually getting all of the things out for his lunch when it happened.
The 1 year ago version of myself would be freaking out. My heart would be racing, my hands sweaty, and I would have had at least one full blown freak out cry-fest each time. The present kate is home with the kids, sitting on the couch with Ryan, a bucket between us.
My ill feelings towards the stomach bug are no longer based in fear. They stem from the frustration from seeing my kids feel like crap and from having no explanation for why it happens so often.
I would say this winter has been nothing if not the greatest exposure anyone could ever have "hoped" for. Was it the therapy that made me better or the countless cries of "mommy, I puked" that I've heard? It's hard to say and, honestly, it doesn't matter. The fact is I am not scared of my kids when they're sick. Sure, I have twinges of anxiety and I occasionally have to take an "emergency" pill, but overall I've conquered my fears and obsessions. At least for now.
Now that my "therapy" is complete, these bugs can lay off anytime!
Sent from my iPhone