If you read my post the other day, you know both my kids have been sick.
Saturday started with my son waking up screaming. He cried for a good hour after he woke, which was probably when the Tylenol kicked in. He wouldn’t eat breakfast; he hasn’t really eaten in several days, not even his favorites. (I think when he coughs while he eats the phlegm just turns him off eating… Who can blame him?) The ear infection mixed with the fact he isn’t eating or sleeping really well has made him a very whiney child. If I’m not holding him, he isn’t happy. He actually fell asleep when I rocked him at nap time, but when I tried to lay him down he screamed and clutched to me. I wound up holding him, and he did fall back asleep for a short time at least. But there went the few minutes of down time I really needed to recharge for the rest of the day.
Sunday I put them both in the tub, hoping the warm water would loosen some of their congestion and help them breathe a little better. I soaped them up, scrubbing off several days’ worth of Vick’s, and then went to put a few dishes away while they played. Just as I stepped into the kitchen I heard my daughter calling for me. When I got to the bathroom my daughter said, “Mommy, there’s dirt in the tub.”
Oh, how I wish is was dirt. The antibiotic, along with the fact that he really isn’t eating solid foods, has given my son diarrhea. I’ll spare you the details; let’s just say it wasn’t a pretty sight. I grabbed up my daughter and stood her in the bathroom sink, soaping her up again. Water went everywhere when I tried to use a cup to rinse her. Then I wrapped her in a towel to get her brother, who by that time was crying again. After washing him off I got them both dressed and set about cleaning the mess in the tub, wishing I hadn’t put so many bath toys in with them (again, I’ll spare you the details, let’s just say it clung to them really well). That’s about the time my husband came in from working night shift and asked, “How are things going?” The look I gave him, and our daughter’s quick recount of the bath experience was all he needed. He actually volunteered to run the vacuum (I’m a little off schedule this week) before going downstairs to sleep.
By afternoon, with our daughter feeling better enough that I couldn’t convince her to take a nap, and our son waking early from his (there went my few minutes of Mommy time again), my own scratchy throat had been partnered with a slight headache, and was my temperature a little high? Even though it was an hour early, I sent the dog downstairs to wake my husband, hoping he would come up, take pity on me and go get dinner from somewhere.
That leads us to today, Monday. My daughter, thankfully, is less whiney although she still sounds like she is drowning in snot. My son is still whiney. Nothing I do seems to make him happy for long. We were playing with a music toy and when I mentioned the one song was the lullaby I sing him to sleep with he puckered up and started crying. He is also still not eating, making me wonder if it’s the snot or maybe a severely sore throat – we may be taking a trip to the doctor tomorrow if this keeps up. And me? My ears are itchy, my throat’s a little sore, and I am starting to lose my patience a little bit with my patients.
Thank you, dear readers, for letting me vent during this brief period of free time I have. Please send some cheese to go with my whine… Or, better yet, send a little wine —