To have children is a double living, the earthly fountain of youth, a continual fresh delight, and also a source of weariness beyond description. -Josephine W. Johnson

Somewhere between wakefulness and sleep I became aware of my dry scratchy throat. My head felt as if it had shrunk, like my brain was too big for my skull. The tightness and the throbbing in my head was accompanied by a heavy feeling in my arms and legs. If my life depended on my moving anywhere fast, I knew I was doomed. Rising to the top of full consciousness now, I knew I was sick. Boy was I sick! The aching, throbbing and pain in my body was not just a bizarre dream. The flu had hit me full force.

At the same time my fully awake and 100% well toddlers were ready for the day to begin. "Get up Mommy. Let's have breakfast. What are we going to have for breakfast? Are we going to go to the library today? Maybe we should go play in the park? Can we stop and see Nana and have a tea part?"

Ugh! This was the first time I became acutely aware of the fact that mothers don't get sick days! There is no one to call to say "I am not well enough to do my job today. Someone will have to fill in and handle my responsibilities." What happened to the good old days. Not the days when as a working woman I could call in sick. Those weren't the good old days. The time that being sick was anything close to being "good" was when I was the child.

Somehow my mother always knew when I was sick. Before I could open my eyes in the morning, there she stood with thermometer in hand. Kissing my forehead, she knew if I was feverish even before she read the mercury. Then she would tell me I needed to stay in bed and return to sleep. A few hours later she would return to my bedroom carrying a tray. I was going to be treated to breakfast in bed. "Do you think you can eat an egg-in-a-cup? How about a little dry toast and some ginger ale?" The only time we ever got to drink soda was when we were sick. The only kind of soda we were ever allowed was ginger ale. No matter how sick I felt, I knew that I would feel better in a few days. Then these healing potions would taste like treats.

Sometime later that same day, or perhaps the next Mom would deem me well enough to move out of my bed and into the temporary clinic of the couch! I wouldn