Week 22 – Mommies Don’t Get Sick

Mac and Sailor have a picture book appropriately titled Mommies Don’t Get Sick. In our house this rule holds. My mommy friend Michele gets some wicked stomach bugs, my mommy friend Lisa catches absolutely everything her little boys get, and my friend Anna has a habit of getting so sick she makes me think she has a chronic, underlying illness yet to be discovered. But me? I don’t get sick. Ok, a cold here and there (mostly there). A fever for a day. But not sick.

And so what do I get for spending the past week bragging to everyone lamenting about winter illness that we don’t get sick anymore – not since Mac had his tonsils out 2 years ago and we radically changed our eating habits? I get SICK! Cough and fever. And Sailor has it ten times worse than I do. We have just passed two nearly sleepless nights, while he whined, cried, moaned and coughed. At 1:45am last night Sailor has to get up to pee. But he is afraid, “Come with me, Mama.” In the bathroom he barks and coughs so hard he nearly vomits. And his pee is “stuck,” and he is “so afraid!” Finally I make him put on the sweatpants we left in the bathroom, sometime last week, I bundle him in his poncho snuggle blanket and his down blanket and carry him down the front stairs and unlock the door. “Relax and take deep breaths,” I instruct. I have neglected to put on any sort of outerwear for myself and have forgotten that the temperature is plummeting to 0 degrees F by morning. I hold my baby, whose face I see relax significantly as the cold, fresh air relieves him of his barking seal impression. I bring him back to bed where he falls instantly asleep and I am awake, but in deep thought about I have no idea what, an hour later.

We are awake by 7:30 and Mac is begging to help me out. He wants to make me tea, but I don’t want tea, I want to sleep. I have to explain that it’s only helping if it actually helps. I hurt his feelings and feel terrible. When I am up and showered I wait for him to finish watching his special event cartoon to make me some tea. He puts a measuring cup, half full, into the microwave for 40 seconds and attempts to get a glass, which he drops, causing it to shatter and him to burst into tears. I console. What do I care about a glass? It was from the dollar store, I assure him, as I sweep.

Mac spends the day alternating between being extremely helpful, “Can I make popcorn for you?” to typical six-year-old, “Honey, will you get the cards from the table for me?” “Why do I have to do everything around here all day?” Which I don’t justify with an answer. And all his helping is left with a cleanup project for me. I put away the popcorn machine and the popcorn, I put the breakfast cereal back in the pantry (he has made cereal and milk for us, as well as a cup of milk and gummy vitamins for Sailor) and the dishes in the dishwasher. Oh, and I spend the day cooking quesadillas.

By evening I am back to thinking Sailor has pneumonia and wish that I had braved the frigid temps to get him to the ER this morning. He smells terrible and I know it will be a fight to get him in the tub. Another long night looms ahead and I am grateful for the days off we have tomorrow and Tuesday. We will certainly be visiting the pediatrician or the ER in the morning.


Monday
And so it goes. Except while I still wake up today with a fever Sailor’s fever has broken. He has a bad cough but I no longer feel the need to take him out in the arctic tundra of February in Chicago to have his little chest X-rayed. I think he is over the hump.

Mac, who seems to be holding his own and has not come down with a cough or fever – yet – has designated himself chore boy. He cleaned the tv (with baby wipes) yesterday, dusted the living room, and threatened to wake up Sailor and me this morning so he could vacuum. A plan I quickly put the kibosh on. It all seems like a fabulous plan except that Mac expects to get paid for his efforts. He has his heart set on some big StarWars Lego thing that sports a hefty $103 price tag. I am fine with him earning money to buy his coveted toy, but what I am not fine with is his assumption that work around the house automatically equals $103. Perhaps he might have asked first. So he just mopped the kitchen floor, after sweeping up our Valentines art project. With attitude, no less.

It’s just barely past noon and we have already had lunch, made Valentines, bathed, played a little…. So much for a sick day. I am fairly wiped out, so we have plopped down in front of the TV to watch “the movie that tells how Santa became Santa,” as Sailor calls the 1990s movie (which we own on VHS, not even DVD) “The Santa Clause.” A perfect choice three days before Valentine’s Day, to be sure. I had voted for “Titanic” but was outvoted at the last minute. We need some new movies. Unfortunately, even if I update my Netflix queue right now we’ll all be well before the next DVD arrives.

I am having a great time unsubscribing from all the junk emails that I somehow signed myself up for. I don’t need to go to DeVry to further my education, I don’t want a loan, I don’t need to know my “real” age and I am not interested in meeting over-40s in my area!

Wednesday
How many times should I have to think about taking Sailor to the ER before I actually take him? How many times is one meant to shovel snow that continues to fall? How come my 4-year-old is better at nose-blowing than my 6-year-old yet refuses to do it because it’s messy? Why is the Underdog DVD still $20? Why does my 6-year-old still enjoy Sesame Street? How many days in a row can you have a fever?

Sailor has not worn clothes since last Thursday. Mac tried the natural cough remedy recommended by Whole Foods last night: a teaspoon of honey. And hour later I hear him calling me but I can’t find him. I finally locate him in the bathroom. Covered in poop. My bathroom is so small I have a hard time cleaning him up and maneuvering around him without getting covered myself. Both kids wake up when I turn on Janice Dickinson’s Modeling Agency. I don’t understand why. Could it be because the show is so LOUD?! Sailor has a 103.5-degree fever. Again.

Hey, I just found out I can watch Tootsie on my laptop straight from my Netflix queue. Good. The kids are watching Barney and they don’t want to leave my room.

I want to cook a lasagna. I don’t think I have the ingredients tho, as I don’t usually do that caliber of cooking.

4:45 pm. It’s time to be starting dinner. I am sitting down to watch Shrek III with Sailor. Mac refuses to watch, claiming to hate Shrek. Oh, what I know of this is that when he was maybe 2 or 3 my mother let him watch the 1st movie. She said he loved it. He has always claimed to have hated it. Years have passed and yet he still won’t even indulge me by joining me on the couch. Wait! The sleepy-head, pajama-clad sick boy has just acquiesced. “I’ll sit here and watch it for a few minutes but if I don’t like it I’m leaving.” Is that too much to ask?

I have pretty much reached the end of my limit with this sick stuff. And yet I see no end in sight. The germ-spreading sneezing, the vomit-threatening coughing, the relentless fevers, the stomach aches that are now giving way to some diarrhea. And the attitudes. No one seems to be getting better. At least not significantly. So I am methodically canceling plans, day by day.
I have emailed back everyone I have owed emails to. I made valentines for the kids for tomorrow. I am officially bored. And totally over being sick. I wish we had a magic pill.

I do appreciate the uninterrupted time at home with the children, however.

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. Usually I go all out. There is no All or Out to go this year. We are sick. Maybe we will feel like making cookies in the shape of hearts tomorrow. I have to remember to bring Mac’s valentines for his class across the street to the French girl who is in his class. She can pass them out for him. By the time Mac returns to school we will be on our way to the next holiday and no one will care about his valentines anymore.

“Happy Valentine’s Day! Wake up, Mom! It’s Valentine’s Day!” Uh, Honey, it’s not Christmas, it’s Valentine’s Day. There is nothing to get up for.
“Shhhhh….” I say. It is the first night we have all slept soundly without moaning, crying or coughing. I don’t want to wake up yet and I don’t want Mac to wake Sailor.
“I want to see what Cupid left us,” Mac says.
On the table he will find a pair of very adorable underpants adorned with hearts that say “MOM” tattoo-style; a book wrapped in heart tissue paper, sent from our relatives in Canada who would only miss sending the kids a holiday treat if they were dead; a chocolate heart lolli from the same relatives; cookies our friends Mac and Taylor dropped off the other day, which I saved for this morning; and two homemade cards from me, which I made while Mac napped yesterday afternoon. After that it’s just another sick day. So I don’t want to get up yet.

Eventually Sailor wakes up too and I encourage them to either go back to sleep or go play. Finally Mac says, “Bye!” and they leave for the playroom. I have the bed to myself for a few minutes. I fall back to sleep and dream that they have covered the kitchen with beautiful valentines for me.

When I do finally grace them with my tousle-headed presence they rip into their gifts and cards and …. Mac wants to know why his underpants are a size 7-8. “They’re going to be too big!” And Sailor begins in on how he knows there is no such thing as Cupid because he was with me when we bought the undies last month. It’s all happening at the same time – all the noise. So I walk off in a huff and slam my bedroom door. No doubt waking my parents below. Oh, wait, no probably not waking them. I think the boys took care of that with their running back and forth thru the house an hour before.

It takes too long for them to come find me. But when they do Mac hopes his valentines to me will make it up to me. He is a smart boy.

“Are you guys hungry now or do you want to eat later?”
“Later,” Mac says.
“Ok, then I am going to take a quick shower.”
“But I’m hungry,” Mac says.
Am I speaking Chinese, I wonder?

I bring out the blender and set it on the table. “The shake maker!” Sailor exclaims. I give Mac milk, a measuring cup and strawberries. He blends. Sailor hates the strawberry milk. I put chocolate in it for both of them. I cut hearts out of bread and make toast. I make heart-shaped eggs. Cut more strawberries. Sometime later the majority of my efforts are in the trash and the boys are on their way to try to clean up the playroom. So much for Mommy’s grand efforts.

It’s another day at home. I read to the boys. I bathe them – Mac decides Sailor needs his own bath because the skin from his feet is floating round the tub. I rub some pumice into Sailor’s feet and by the time our slow tub drains and Mac gets a turn, bathtime has been an event rather than a mere activity. I blow dry both boys after putting them in their valentine shirts (from 2 years ago! Funny how I hang on to some of their clothes that I really love even tho they have outgrown them – when everything else gets moved along the minute they start to fit properly). These particular shirts are from the GAP and they have a big read heart against a navy background. In athletic apparel style they cay “If Lost Please Return to MOM!” Which is why they are my all-time favorite shirts.

I share Japanese noodle soup with Sailor while Mac lies in bed. I try to bribe Sailor to eat his applesauce by offering chocolate milk. I hate having to work so hard to get healthy food into my kids. Or really what I mean is just food. I was food-obsessed for years. And now I am in a whole new way. At least now it’s about putting healthy foods into our bodies, as opposed to before when it was about not putting food into mine at all.

I am starting to really like staying home with the kids, despite our grumpy morning. I like sitting on the couch watching movies and eating healthy snacks (Mac requested apple slices and then fresh green beans after watching something in Madagascar) all day. I am over being bored. I have gotten all my bills paid, my phone calls made, the house is not particularly messy, and I feel cozy.

We are in the middle of another DVD marathon when my sister arrives with chocolate cupcakes from Whole Foods. YUM! We each take one. My parents stop up and each take one. The children leave theirs. Hmmm…

The little French girl from across the street rings our bell. She has brought Mac’s valentines and his homework. Mac goes thru the valentines, reading each name. “I thought Billy would give me a Pokemon valentine.” There are indeed at least 6 or 7 names missing. This virus has zapped the 1st grade. I send a thank you email to the parents in 1st grade for all the lovely valentines (am I a nerd or what?) and specifically thank the French mom and her daughter for stopping by. We eat sugary things with red dye #40. But not much, just one or two apiece.


7:50pm We have just completed a 4-DVD marathon. It’s time for bed. Sailor climbs up behind me on the sofa. Mac offers me an ultimatum: “You choose, Mom. Either more TV or Sailor gets to smack you in the head.”