No one told me how difficult being sick as a parent would be.
Not because I had to be SuperDad and push through the daily care of a toddler while suffering the flu like I’m in some kind of DayQuil commercial. Quite the opposite actually. The flu has a funny way of showing you just how magnificent you are not.
No, if anything, this weekend highlighted the Supers that surround me. And how I, unquestionably, pale in comparison.
From Jen’s mom feeding the the dogs before she whisked Daphne to a safer/less contaminated household on Friday,
To Gramps & Nana picking up an extra shift on BumbleDay because I was still quarantined in the bedroom,
And to my wife…
Who not only handled the entirety of Daphne’s care this weekend while I was in bed, spinning in fits of fevered delirium, but who also made me soup, ensured my water glass was always full, came in to check on me whenever she could, and still banged out new Pure Barre choreography and taught her early class on Sunday morning.
I don’t have the words to tell her how thankful I am for her today.
Not just for her care while I was sick. I’m thankful for what an amazing mother she is to our daughter, thankful for her strength to shoulder our family when needed, thankful for her kind and gentle heart, and thankful for whatever twist of fate caused her to love a guy like me. (It was the ball pit that did it, wasn’t it?)
I’ve said it before, and I know that I’ll say it again. I have no idea what I did to deserve someone like her, but had to have been something angelic.
Proof the universe conspires in my favor.
I love you so very much, sweetie.