Wednesday, February 17, 2016

Quick, Someone Hold My Kid

I am a lady on the edge over here.

Sickness is running through the house.

Now, before I receive comments and messages about it, allow me to acknowledge that the ailments I am going to whine about here are routine and "easy."  They will quickly pass and my children and I will continue on about our lives.  I have it good, I realize.

I have friends with children who are fighting genuine medical challenges.  Cancer, heart issues, etc.

These Moms are in the trenches every day fighting for and with their kids.  They are warriors, relentless and brave in the face of so, so much.


Not so much.

I am weak.

We're going on a week here with a random assortment of vomit, fever, stomach pain, and general yuck and I am ready to check out.

As in, hop in my minivan (I would be willing to take the minivan and leave Alex his fancy car* as compensation for him being married to the worst person ever,) and just drive in to the sunset.

I'd miss everyone so much, I assume, but it would have some serious perks.

Last Thursday morning Alex picked Max out of his crib and discovered it filled with dried vomit.

(This is not normal.)

I would like to give props to Max for throwing up in the night and then promptly going back to sleep in it so he wouldn't have to wake his parents.  Apparently Max is aware of my weakness.

He also had a fever and a clingy need to be in my arms.

Max's fever and vomit and need to be held while he whined/cried continued through the weekend.

I thought it was rough.

Then Monday came and Alex and Aiden and Cole all started to feel badly.

On top of Max's situation.

Alex came home from work in the middle of the day with fever and chills and stomach pain. Aiden crashed in bed at 4:00 with fever, then starting vomiting shortly after.  Cole laid in bed with professed stomach pain and a headache.

I started to truly unravel.

There is a reason I didn't go in to nursing.

Tuesday morning brought zero relief for Aiden, but Alex was able to slowly start moving and got off to work.  Max didn't have any fever or vomiting, but still would not let me put him down without a dramatic show of emotion and whined and pointed while I held him.


All 25 pounds of him.

(I can't tell you how much my arms and back hurt.)

(I could, but it would be even more painful to real than this current post which is really just turning in to a play-by-play complaint session about my family's illness.)

Cole held fast to his claim of illness but I was reasonably confident he was lying.

Some of my clues:

  • Cole often is dramatic about sickness.
  • I caught him doing push ups around 9:30 am
  • Shortly after push ups he brought me the vomit bowl with a decent amount of spit in it and claimed he couldn't throw up, but he did have too much saliva.  Surely this was of great concern to his health.
  • He was trying to figure out how to slide on his blanket on the floor without being pulled.
  • He typed up this poem to butter me up.

  • He tried to do the dishes.
  • He did not succeed.
  • He finally told me he felt fine but didn't want to walk in late to school embarrassing.
Lord help me.

Aiden is an easy sick kid.  He lays in bed, he moans, maybe reads, or watches a movie.  

Max is apparently an impossible, mean sick kid requiring so much physical attention it should be part of the terrorist torture program.

Max is the part that is killing me.  

I am suffocating.  

I literally can not even use the restroom without him screaming and clawing on me to hold him. 

He is not happy.  

His ears are clear, his fever is gone, there is no more vomit....but the torture continues.  

Alex is convinced he is just spoiled, but I don't think so.  I feel like he is genuinely not feeling great but I have no idea what to do.

Unfortunately I am out of sympathy.  I am at the point where I really just can't handle him anymore.  I am taking multiple walks a day because it's the only time he is calm and I don't have to hold him.

You probably think this is just his way to help me with my New Year's resolutions, because you are nicer than I am and haven't been holding him for a week.

Unfortunately I can't feel any gratitude for his help because I am done.

A sweet friend of mine on Facebook with two small children posted this yesterday with a little heart.

She is such a better person than I am.

All I could think of when I saw it was, "I know, doesn't it suck sometimes?"

Is there an emoji for that?

I know, next week we'll probably be fine.  This suffocating feeling will subside, I'll be able to break away, and I will feel substantially less crazy.  Normal life will resume and Max will walk away and play and I will be left with the most amazing arm and back muscles on a Mom of four.

Can we just fast forward?

*That fancy car would not last long with the brutality of our children on a vehicle.  This would just feel like a nice gesture at first.

No comments: