We’ve all heard the stories of how women can handle everything when sick, while the man-cold shuts down entire cities for the duration of the epidemic, but let’s talk about babies and kids, shall we?
Boo recently developed (read caught something from his germy, school-aged brothers) his first real cold at the age of 7 months. He felt that it was necessary to cover all the bases with it and go all out. I mean, if you’re going to be sick, you might as well do it up right! Amiright? He had a fever, plugged ears, a congested nose that even the amazing NoseFrida couldn’t touch, a cough that kept everyone but his brothers and Aba awake… Oh, wait… Anyway, and just for added fun, when he was able to eat, he hacked it back up — all over me. Somehow he managed to miss the full body armour I’d covered myself in and find the one spot of clothing that is not protected. It’s ok, sweets, I didn’t need that shirt anymore anyway.
Side note: Thank Gd for the Old Navy Clearance section. I live there. If it wasn’t for them, I’d be covered in stained clothes all the time because I can never (ever, ever, ever) get on top of all the laundry.
Where was I? Oh yes, the mess(es).
In one day we had a blowout, I lost not one, but TWO shirts, Boo went through THREE outfit changes and I only had ONE coffee and ONE hour of sleep total. I feel something is terribly wrong with this mathematical equation of illness by the numbers.
I do have to commend babies on handling illness. Sweet Boo may be more hormonal and miserable than a pre-pubescent teenager, but when he’s not screeching in decibels loud enough to make a space shuttle launch sound like a feather landing on a cotton ball, he’s the happiest baby you’ll ever meet. Like, this kid will stop screaming if he sees another person specifically to flirt with them.
Now, sick babies are not to be taken lightly, but this being my third time around I’m able to look at the lighter side of the situation instead of giving in to the sheer panic associated with your child dealing with something that you can’t fix with a bandaid and a kiss.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to change my shirt… And his… And my pants… And mop that up. 😖