The Nightstand Sickness Calculation

The more ill I am, the less I care about what kind of a mess surrounds me.  In general, I like everything to be in it's place and I dislike disorder.  I put everything up before going to bed so that I can sleep knowing the house is in order and I can start afresh in the morning making new messes (or more commonly, cleaning up new messes of my children).

Those rules change when I'm sick.  Whenever I'm sick enough to stay in bed for long periods of time, my nightstand that is usually cleared of any mess, becomes cluttered in all sorts of sick-related things.  This time there were the sore throat drops, sore throat spray, bottle of Gatorade, thermometer, vial of medication for my broken tailbone, NyQuil, and possibly some other food items I can't remember now.

The floor around the bed has also gone chaotic.  There is the blanket that goes on the bed when I'm shivering and thrown off the bed when I'm sweating.  There are several iterations of clothes that I don't have the energy to put away or put in the hamper, and there may be jackets and shoes and other items that normally don't belong on the floor on the side of the bed.  

One of the first signs that tells me I'm getting better is a reduction in clutter on the nightstand and surrounding area.  As I begin to feel more like my self, the mess starts to bother me and I have to clean it.  As of this afternoon, the nightstand was back to it's clean and clear state.

So, I hope this means I'm close to getting over with this cold-type thing I've had for the last four days.

The Big Boy Update:  "There's no more handlebars."  My children were climbing on a fallen down tree at the park this past weekend.  My son was shimmying up the trunk and pulling himself foward with the limbs.  At a certain point there were no more limbs for him to grab and he exclaimed, "there's no more handlebars."

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  She found my ring.  I knew it was going to happen sooner or later.  You can't completely house-proof your home from toddlers.  They will find something you don't want them to find, use something in a way you don't want them to use it or do eleventy-twelve other things you never, ever expected your precious little children to do.  I told my husband a while back that I was worried someone would find my engagement ring and decide it looked fun to play with and wander off with it.  Then, in their innocent little toddler-way, stick that ring in some very toddler-logical place and we would never find it again.  They can open drawers, move stools around to get to high locations and they are ingenious at getting to things.  So when my husband said, "look what she just found" and I saw my ring on my daughter's finger, there was a serious conversation with both children about how that was not theirs and they were not invited to ever play with it and would they like a ring of their own?  Two colorful plastic rings later and I hope they don't bother with my ring (now in its new location when I'm not wearing it) in the future.