One Of Those Days

Today was "one of those days."  It wasn't a bad day, in fact, it was pretty nice.  We stayed home, played, and watched movies.  The kids even went over to the neighbors for about an hour and I got some cleaning done.  Although it was mostly a good day, it was also a challenging one.  Today I found it particularly hard to have a two and a half year old who doesn't move on his own.

Christian was having one of those days too.  He just couldn't make up his mind about anything.  He would ask to watch a movie, then start crying the moment I walked away, and ask to go cook in his play kitchen.  As soon as I got him set up in the kitchen he threw a fit, and some toy food, and demanded to go in the living room.  Once in the living room, he screamed to go back to his bedroom.  You get the picture.  All day.

I tried playing with him, sitting on the floor, standing on the rug, dancing in my arms.  It didn't matter what I tried.  He was determined to find something better to do.  Every time I tried talking to him in a calm voice he yelled back at me.  He even tried to hit me during a fit.  When I said that hitting isn't kind, he yelled "YES IT IS!"  He spent a lot of time cooling down in time out.

I was trying to stay focused on being calm and in controll.  I told myself that every mother with a boy this age is going through the same thing.  But I couldn't help picturing what it would be like if he could get up and go in the other room on his own.  Or if he could sit up by himself when he slumped over on the couch.  Or even if he could crawl to get the toy just out of reach.  Major pity spiral, let me tell you.

When I have a day like this, I am filled with conflicting emotions; anger, sadness, guilt, frustration.  Then I take a deep breath, and tell myself that it probably wouldn't be any easier if Christian was mobile.  In fact, it might be a whole lot harder.  Knowing Christian, I would be fishing him out of the river every day, or every dish in my kitchen would be broken, or all Tessie's dolls would have very peculiar hair cuts.  My son is who he is, and I know we were given to each other for a reason.  What that reason is, I haven't quite figured out yet, but I'm sure there is one.

After their bath this evening, we were in the kids' room putting on pajamas.  Christian was ready first, so I set him on his bed while I helped Tes with a tangled pant leg.  Christian started telling us that he saw a monster in the closet.  I looked over at him, and smiled.  He was sitting up so tall, grinning and spinning quite a tale, with such animation it was impossible not to laugh.  That is my son, smart, funny, and strong willed.  I know that at times his will is what I have the hardest time with, but it is also the reason he is here today, and why he is continuing to progress every day.  Watching him talk about his monster in the closet, I forgot all the anger and frustration from the day, and instead I was filled with a beautiful love for my little man.

Sleeping Sound

If you have read any of my posts lately, you know that the kids and I have been battling a nasty bug for over a week now.  After a trip to the doctor's office today, my suspicions were confirmed when it was reveled that we were fighting more than a cold.  The kids both had ear infections and I had a sinus infection.  Poor Christian had already been on medication for an ear infection, but it hadn't quite done the trick.  I happily picked up antibiotics and took the kids home for a cozy dinner and a movie.  Despite the never-ending ear infection, Christian was in a great mood before dinner, playing with his sister, and being goofy.

In the middle of dinner he started to grumble, and I asked him what was wrong.  He got a very upset look on his face, and said his tummy hurt.  I picked him up and asked if he wanted to go potty.  He said yes, but then snuggled up against me.  It was such a sweet snuggle, that I just stood there for awhile and swayed with my boy in my arms,  planning on taking him to the potty in a minute.  When the minute was up, I noticed he had totally relaxed against me, and seemed to be asleep.  From my vantage point, I couldn't tell for sure, so I walked into the kids' room, and looked in their mirror.  Sure enough, he was out.  I turned off the light, and lay him in bed, dirty shirt and all.  It was still more than an hour until bed time, and I hadn't given him any medication yet, but I figured if he needed to sleep, I should let him.  I tiptoed out of the room in amazement, and closed the door. 

After the movie and dinner were over, I got Tes ready for bed, and was about to read her a book, when I heard Christian start coughing terribly.  His coughing was so bad that he woke himself up.  I went in to get him, and lay him on the couch while I fixed a syringe of cough medicine.  He was sound asleep again by the time I got back to him, but I knew he would sleep better with the medicine so I attempted the impossible.  I gave him his medicine anyway.  He didn't bat an eye.  He swallowed the whole teaspoon, I scooped him back up, and put him to bed.  His coughing subsided, and now he is sleeping soundly.  This feels a little like a miracle to me, given the week I have had, but I will accept it without question.  I may be up at three in the morning, but for now I think I will head to bed myself, and count my beautiful lucky stars.

Matzoh Ball Soup to the Rescue

Being sick sucks.  Plain and simple.  It especially sucks when you have the never ending sickness from hell, and both your kids are sick too.  This evening I got a wonderful surprise that made it suck a little less.  I was getting the kids ready for bed, administering various medicines, and trying not to get sucked into the black hole in my head.  My neighbor called in the midst of the madness, and asked if I would like her to run me down some soup.  Although I am usually prone to wave away kind favors when I'm at my wits end, I recognized that would be stupid, and said yes, I would love some soup.  She arrived moments later with a piping hot container of Matzoh Ball Soup.  It smelled delicious, and a little like heaven.  I thanked her, and said goodnight.  Even though I already had dinner, I am taking my neighbor-doctor's advice, grabbing a big bowl of soup, and crawling in bed to watch a movie.  Mmmmmm.  It smells like a beautiful evening is ahead of me.

Art Across Generations

This afternoon, when I put Christian down for a nap, my mom asked Tes if she would like to color.  Tessie said yes, of course, and when I came back out Mom was setting her up at the dining table with paper and crayons.  Tessie started to draw, and after watching her for a few minutes, my mom and I both sat down on either side of her and got our own papers.  Before long, all three of us were deeply focused on our colorful projects.

I heard a noise and looked up to see my dad standing over us, smiling at what must have been an interesting sight.  Three generations of ladies, a roll of paper, and a box of crayons.  The perfect combination, if you ask me.  It was a blast.  Tessie drew beautiful flowers and fairies, I tried to draw Tes, and my mom sketched trees and flowers.  I couldn't think of a better way to spend the afternoon, especially feeling under the weather as I did.  It was a beautiful artistic collaboration, and I hope, one of many more to come.

The Passing Storm

Our little family is getting hit hard by a very nasty bug.  Nick and Christian got it first, and I followed a few days later.  I thought that Tessie was going to make it through with just a runny nose, but yesterday the other shoe dropped.  It seemed that out of nowhere, Tes was suddenly very sick.  She was burning up and achy.  My poor girl, there wasn't much I could do besides give her Tylenol and hope it passed quickly.  Last night she went out like a light, and I hoped she would get a great night's sleep and wake up refreshed.  Early this morning I realized we weren't going to get off the hook so easily.

I was awakened at four this morning by mumbling coming from Tessie's bed.  I crept over to find her incredibly hot, breathing quickly, and babbling nonsense.  None of these things seemed like good signs, so I scooped her up and carried her to the living room.  After a lot of convincing, I got her to swallow some Tylenol and then drink some cold water.  I pulled her hair back from her face and lay her on the couch under a light blanket.  Then I put on Tinker Bell, and lay down next to her.  After a while, her breathing slowed, and she fell into a deep sleep.  I curled up next to her and didn't leave her side until morning.

It was apparent this morning that she still felt awful.  She was flushed, lethargic, and super sensitive.  Since I wasn't feeling so hot myself, we just lay around on the couch all morning and watched movies.  Both she and Christian fell asleep early, and slept until well after lunch time.  I even napped a little myself.  After lunch it seemed like she was a little better, but she was still hot and definitely not herself.  After another dose of medicine, I was surprised that she fell asleep for a second time.  This time she slept for a good three hours.  Just before dinner, she started to stir.  I reached my hand out to smooth the hair back from her face, and breathed a deep sigh f relief.  Her forehead was cool, and damp with sweat.  Her fever had broken.  Even though I was sure she would still wake up a bit under the weather, I felt that the storm had passed, and we were sailing in much more beautiful seas.

The Missing Pills

My son gets carsick.  A lovely opener, I know, but it is what's on my mind today.  About a year and a half ago we discovered, during a very unpleasant several hour long drive to my parent's house, just how carsick he gets.  Ever since then we have given him a pill to prevent nausea every time we are planning on a long, or particularly curvy drive.  The pills work like magic, and we are always careful to keep them on hand.  Today I was packing us up for a quick weekend trip to visit my parents, when I started to look for the pills.  Suddenly, I knew exactly where they were.  They were in a zip lock back in Nick's car.  Nick's car was in Albuquerque.  I was not.

After panicking for a minute, I told myself it would be okay.  Christian would probably nap the whole way, and maybe he wouldn't get sick.  I did not believe myself for a second.  I loaded the kids in the car, draped a towel over Christian, and crossed my fingers.  He fell asleep before we were out of the driveway, and I thought that I might be in the clear.  About halfway through our trip he started to stir, and moan, with a very familiar look on his face.  I braced myself.

Somehow I lucked out and he fell back asleep for a while.  He woke up a while later, and although he didn't look great, he had a little color and I managed to distract him for awhile.  Then, about ten minutes from my mom's house, all color drained from his face, and I just knew it was all over.  But I decided I was smarter than the carsickness.  I pulled over, ran to the other side of the car, and got Christian out of his seat like my life depended on it.  I held him up with his face in the wind and held my breath.  Slowly, his cheeks became pink again, and he snuggled up against my chest.  We swayed in the breeze for a while, then I returned him to his seat, and continued on our way.  We made it with no further incident, and as I walked Christian into the house he said "I feel better mom."  Whew.  I have to say, as crazy as it may sound, being able to pull my son back from the brink of carsickness was amazingly beautiful, and made me feel a little awesome.  But I will never misplace his pills again.

Submission

I just put the kids to bed, and seeing how it is barely eight o'clock, I thought I might get a little cleaning done before I hit the sack.  My house is an absolute disaster, I'm talking nuclear, and this was my best shot to get some cleaning done without kids making it counterproductive.  But here's the thing.  I feel awful.  Like total garbage.  This cold, or whatever it is, will not relinquish its hold.  Just looking at the mess is making me ache all over.  So I have decided to ignore it all, and go to bed.  I'm adopting a Scarlet O'Hara attitude, and I'm gonna think about it tomorrow.  I'm gonna crawl in bed, have a glass of wine, read for a few minutes, then hopefully pass out.  And that's it for this evening, my moment today is total submission.  I am giving in.  Tonight, the cold wins.  Maybe tomorrow I will make a beautiful comeback.