you don't have to wish for the flu

listen,

i get it.

you have what feels like 432 kids.

it's 2:42 am.

and you are quietly scrubbing throw up out of the carpet.

you are maniacally

praying

over

and

over

and over 

again

"please don't let one of the sleeping kids wake.

please don't let one of the sleeping kids wake.

 please don't let one of the sleeping kids wake"

and if one does wake up,

please don't let them be projectile vomiting."

you are trying your best to silence those prayers thinking,

"what do i have to do to get the flu?"

why can't i call in?
what do i need to do to have a reason to stay in bed?

and not cook breakfast.

or answer questions every 42 seconds.

and not eat at all and lose six pounds in one day.

since when is the flu so horrible?

i'll tell you when.

when you break your ankle.

i left the gym mid june,

stella was on my hip

colton was holding my hand,

and chloe was flitting about the parking lot like she owned the place.

i think.

who really knew where chloe was.

we were so close to my car.

i took a step forward

and i realized i had no where to go because i was holding stella,

and colton was standing where my foot needed to go.

i went forward knowing it wasn't going to be pretty.

however, i would like to take this time,

knowing that my kids will read this,

to state,

i one hundred percent took one for the team.

for you guys.

i didn't want to drop stella,

i didn't want to fall on colton,

and who knows where chloe was.

i went down and immediately felt the pain.

but i gave myself a pep talk, like i do every day of my life.

usually it has something to do with making it to nap time.

sometimes i am cheering myself down the sidelines to actually get breakfast on the table.

this day it was:

you can do this.

after all you have been through with these crazy children,

you can do this.

pick up your leg, hop in the car, and drive home.

but i soon realized i would not be able to do that.

i could not move my leg.

for real.

colton was crying from {inevitably} being pinned between the car and me,

stella was crying from {inevitably} being dropped.

and who knows where chloe was.

it was chaos.

per usual.

i screamed repeatedly for my sweet friend, krista, who was parked what felt like a mile from me.

she eventually came running and saved the day.

i used her phone and called my mom begging for her to be at my house when i got home.

she was.

and as she was hugging me,

unloading my kids,

while simultaneously applying ice to my ankle and asking me what i wanted for dinner at 12:49 pm,

it started to click.....

the flu?

have i really secretly been begging for the flu?

we iced it.

my dad took me to the dr.

we iced it.

we went to get my boot.

we iced it.

i took ibuprofen,

we iced it.

and when i got home, my mom sent me to bed????

is this real life?

my bed?

i haven't been sent to my bed since i pushed a baby out of my body?!

and that was almost two years ago.

so when my mom entered my room with a pain pill,

a chilled glass of pinot grigio,

and parmesan and leek risotto?

it finally hit me......

who the hell wishes for the flu when all you need to do is break your ankle?

as i sipped my wine,

spooning delicious,

cheesy,

leeky

risotto in my mouth.

 

it was ofish.

i was not breaking up any fights.

i was not dishing out in the green bowl when "obviously" i was "supposed" to be dishing out in the pink bowl.

i wasn't trying to come up with a magical story about the green bowl because both girls want the only pink bowl.

i wasn't spooning their cold, regurgitated leftovers hurriedly into my mouth with a toddler spork.

i wasn't cleaning the kitchen, while at the same time trying to get them in the bath.

 

and we all know,

that bath puts me

one

step

closer

to

bedtime.

i was eating hot food and drinking cold wine in my bed.

and it was glorious.

but

as i rested my elevated ankle,

in all of my full reality tv glory,

i started to feel bad.

because i know you all have wished for the flu, too.

or some other virus to put you out for a day or four.

so on my third uninterrupted episode of guiliana and bill, and second glass of wine, i decided i owed you all the truth.

channel your inner nancy kerrigan and hire a tonya.

you're welcome.

don't worry, be happy

i have been flirting with the idea of blogging again.
and,
about three people have told me that they have missed me.

but let's be honest.

i am easy,

so
three people = two hundred and twenty six people in my book.

so, i made a deal with myself,

i said

"if you posted on july 11, 2013 last year, you will blog again immediately."

i checked.
i did.

and it was a special one

i'm kind of psychic so i take these type of deals with myself quite seriously.
so, when i logged into pandora and searched for a grandma wood worthy station and

"don't worry, be happy"

 

came on as the first song, i knew i must proceed.
"don't worry, be happy" was grandma wood's jam.
along with "kokomo."
clearly she loved the cocktail soundtrack, but honestly, who could blame her?

so, obviously my grandma is yelling at me from heaven to blog again, which is fine and all,

but i really do not know how to catch y'all up after a years hiatus??

things are crazier than ever.
i'm on instagram @marissastratton.
that should catch you up.

do that, and holler back.

stella started talking.
and hasn't stopped.
so it is no holds barred

three
against
one.

if you're a betting man?
those aren't great odds, my friends..

i am not at all joking when i tell you that they meet to screw with me.

e-va-ray-dam-day.

i really just don't understand how am i still in charge of these people?
who are expected to be alive all day,
and all night,

honestly?

it's quite silly.

because on most days?

i really can't even guarantee that i will be breathing by the time matty gets home from work.

whomever is in charge of me clearly does not know how to delegate.
these fools are in charge of me.

i typically succumb to the madness around 4:45 pm.

i am usually cooking dinner.

and let me tell you, 4:45 breakdowns are awesome.

cooking with six arms
and six legs
flailing about over boiling pots of water

in a teeny kitchen is awesome.

here they are, one year later.

i know.

they are still so cute.
and so big

and so cute.

dude.
these kids are nuts,

but i'm nuts.

that may be why the kids are nuts.

and my husband is nuts.
it's definitely why the kids are nuts, no?

don't answer.
i know the answer, it just doesn't help me get through the day.

and ps,
i have a broken ankle.

stay with me.
it's been a while, but it won't be a while.

i have so much more to tell you.
and i will.

i love you all.

and it's a true story when i say that i've missed you greatly,

i just didn't realize how much until my grandma started yelling at me from heaven.

****p to the s.
i realize i didn't post this on june 11th, but that's when i wrote it.****

my psychic theory holds true.