The one sick parent rule

Amanda and I have an unofficial rule that only one of us is allowed to be sick at a time. Until recently, this is a rule that have been totally in favor of since I, the unhealthier, normally get sick first followed by Amanda's much shorter illness. But now, there are allergies to contend with.

Since moving down the mountain, Amanda has done a great job getting the family to eat better, more nutritional meals. Sure, we indulge some with the occasional bucket of chicken or visit to Neighborhood on the Water (great lemon chicken) but normally this is offset by chickpea and pumpkin soup or Indian vegetables and rice. The end result has been that I may not be in peak physical form - I don't bike or walk to work unlike in Africa - but I do get sick less often.

Our improved diet, however, hasn't been able to stop Amanda from being allergic to something in our yard. When we tore out a downed manggo tree in our yard, Amanda could tell it was going to start soon. But she got a jump on the swelling and spots on her arms through the ample use of drowsiness inducing medicine. So for the last two days, she has fought a valiant but losing battle against waves of "do not opperate heavy machinery-ness." She'll do one more day of heavy medicines today after I get home from classes and hopefully be done with it.

Even dizzy, my wife does a lot. She manages to make meals, do laundry, get her boys off to school, send dessert to the neighbor across the street. She helps @ with homework (yeah, he has homework for preschool). She keeps the houseworker from comepletely rearranging the house. And in between this, she tries to get a couple of minutes in the airconditioning to help keep the swelling down and limit her recovery time. Exhausting.

I try to help out a little here and there and don't do nearly enough. And still I'm tired. I guess this is what I deserve for breaking my leg the month before @ was born. I owe her.