When the mom gets sick and it’s summertime, this is what happens:
* The mom doesn’t sleep at night because she can’t breathe.
* The mom gets up early and hauls her zombie self into the car with Jacky to make the long drive to see the University psychiatrist who they’ve waited two months to see.
* The mom sounds like a honking, diseased buzzard throughout the doctor’s appointment. Jacky is a peach the entire time.
* The mom tries to take a short nap later when the baby naps, but instead changes the five-year-old’s poopy pants and oversees a mid-afternoon sensory bath for Jack.
* The mom incurs the wrath of the third child when she says she is too sick to jump on the trampoline with him.
* The mom takes her feverish self downstairs to repeatedly feed people and do the dishes. And keep the laundry from taking over the house.
* The mom whines about it to the dad, who is sympathetic, but who is also on call and has to work late.
* The biggest brother becomes the mom’s hero when he entertains his younger brothers in the basement for a wonderfully long time.
* The mom, achy and chilled, bundles up for a ninety-degree day and remembers a June two years past when she was pregnant and sick with pneumonia. The mom is grateful that is not now.