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For the most part, we’ve managed to stay healthy this fall but like it always does, I knew something was going to hit us. One by one, we all fell victim to a stomach bug that culminated it one horrible day where four of the six of us were useless. Normally, I can handle the neverending battle of laundry and handing out crackers and pop, on top of my regular duties but it wasn’t a surprise when I got sick, too (it may have had something to do with the kids always drinking out of my cup and constantly sneezing on me). I fully intended on waking up with Jack, making his lunch, and sending him to work but when I vaguely heard him say that he was going to stay home to take care of us, I fell back asleep for a couple of hours with only a morsel of guilt and a boatload of gratitude.


Jack is quite capable of becoming a stay-at-home dad position when needed. By the time I rolled out of bed, he already had the fire going, the animals fed, Henry (the only child who mercifully wasn’t sick–he’d already had and gotten over his turn of illness) cleaned up and changed, the laundry going, and breakfast cooking. He put in eight hours of work from home, picked up some groceries and checked on us while the women of the house laid around, watching movies, and drifting in and out of consciousness.

There’s what real love looks like, people.

By the end of the day, the dual positions caught up with him and he crashed, too. Thankfully, the day off helped me recuperate, Jack’s still managed not to get sick, and today, we’re all feeling like a million bucks, which allowed us to get caught up on the housework that was put off (primarily cleaning up the crackers Henry crushed all over the place while I was powerless to stop him).

That is one good househusband. Thanks for the sick day off work, Jack!

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True stories of raising children, remodeling, braving the elements and plotting out life, all while living on a humble acreage in central Indiana.

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