Bitch Slapped by Inspiration

OK, so I am very aware that I have neglected you recently. I apologize, but I will force my excuses upon you now... Strep, stomach flu, throat virus, other random virus, pneumonia...and 2 beautiful petri dishes I call my sons. During my abundant and constant, hypochondriac-like worry about them, I have not been inspired to write. Well today my kids reminded me STRONGLY that they are my constant inspiration.

Day 7 of pneumonia boy's "staycation." I'm working from home and trying to focus. He is feeling much better than yesterday when he was writhing in pain from some mystery leg pain that I thought was a clear sign of Prednisone poisoning but which may actually be tied to the virus that caused the pneumonia...or growing pains...eh, who knows, take your pick. He feels better than the day before that, when I ripped out his stomach lining by giving him all 4 gut eating meds simultaneously on a no longer full stomach. And, in general, he feels better, because he did not have the complexion of a vampire until around 7pm.

Let's go to the mall Mom. I'll bring a book.
No.
Please.
No.
Please??
No.
But...
No.
But pleaseeee?
No!!
WHY would You want to go to the mall?!?!
To get new clothes. And shoes. I am in the mood for new shoes.
You want new shoes? Show me you can tie a shoelace!
After 4 years of trying to get him to tie a shoelace, the kid did it in 5 minutes. Seriously?
So can we go to the mall? Just you and me?
No, I'm working.

Then it was time to pick up little bro. He came in with a vengeance. Within minutes a full fledged battle was waging and then the little one hit the big one with a curtain rod. Within 20 seconds of being in time out he starts crying about his throat. I look in horror thinking "noooooooo, not another illness!!!". No.

Mommy, a stick is stuck in my throatttttt!
You ATE a stick? In timeout?
Yes.
The stuff from the basket the (fake) tree is sitting in?
Yes. It won't go down!!
Drink some water (it was neither stick sized nor inflexible).
It's still there
Eat some bread. Did that work?
Yeah. Can I have more bread? Can I come out of time out?

Less than an hour later...
Pneumonia boy finds the blow torch like lighter and lights a candle on the table. Neat boy that he is, he wipes the soot from the bbq lighter on my 4 day old tablecloth. After dinner, where the little one wept openly at the thought of putting any piece of the tiny hill of mashed potatoes in his mouth, I told him he could blow out the candle. Just seconds later...

What the...did you PUT HOT WAX ON YOUR FACE???
No?
(long pause as he picks at a spot near his mouth)
Mommy, will you help me get the wax off my face?
It was relatively easy up until I had to get the glob off his eyelash, but he took it like a man.

Apparently the man decided that he deserved a drink.
I looked over a few minutes later upon hearing him cry and seeing him start ripping off his shirt (international symbol for I spilled something on myself and hate being wet).
oh, did you get yourself some juice? (please tell me it wasn't the one from the pantry hat I saw him eyeing earlier...it is)
Mmm-hmm
How's it taste?
Good
Oh, 'cause it expired in March of last year.

Cut to bedtime. After vehemently warning the little one that he better not stick his hand in the toilet and swish it around before brushing his teeth like last night, they began their bedtime routine.

The little one climbs in and out of bed as the oldest pulls a new (and by far my favorite) stalling tactic. He climbs on the chair behind me and begins rubbing my neglected back.

Does that feel good Mom?
Very.
So you still want me to go to bed?
Um, sort of, not as much.
SORT OF???

4 year old jumps back in bed to count.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 freakin' a hundred!

Conversation with back rubbing but totally innocent nearly 8 year old begins to sound disturbing...

Mom, you should take off your shirt, it would be easier.
(he means the 30 ply sweater that I am wearing over another shirt)
Do you like this mommy? You can moan if you like it so I know it feels good.
(Ewwwwwwwwwww!!!! Dearest God, please don't let anyone hear him say that and please don't ever let him remember he said that to his Mother when he is older and knows better).
No, I am not going to moan. Thank you for the back rub. Go to bed.
Really??? You want me to stop???
No, not really, can you scratch now?

So these are the gifts that my babies gave me today to remind me that they are (the meaning in my life. They're) my inspiration! How could I ever think I didn't have something to say? I have at least 1 2 3 freakin' a thousand things to say.