There are very few things in this life that force me to slow down. I like being busy. I like juggling 1,000 projects in the air. I love the hustle and bustle of working hard and pushing the limits of what I can do. I like the rat race. I wanted to be Diane Keaton in “Baby Boom” when I was in high school. Still do.
But a sick baby will make me drop anything like a hot potato and slam on the brakes of life.
They are the most pitiful little creatures when they are sick, aren’t they? Their weak eyes, sad whispered voices, tiny clammy hands, funky little sick breath that you can’t help but snuggle up to.
And I hate to admit this, but it’s nice to be needed again. The cuddles are fantastic. The appreciation for every glass of juice you bring is unprecedented, which only lights a fire under me to get it faster and in their special cup.
After a full day of this, I can tell you that I would do anything to switch places and take the sick from him. I would happily accept the fever if it meant he was his normal, gregarious self again.
For his health, of course, but also because the medicine I’m giving him has upset his belly. Not enough to cause frequent bathroom trips, just enough to make my room and, more specifically, my sheets that he’s curled up so preciously in, smell like rotten eggs.
It gave us a giggle the first time he let a good one rip. It was so fierce that I made him check his tighty whities for burn marks (aka: skid marks).
It made me laugh when he lifted his head from my chest and under a blanket of long eyelashes, his baby blue eyes beamed as he said “Sorry mommy” mere seconds before the egg hit me like a ton of rotten bricks.
And he cracked me up when his sister laid down beside him, right into the crop dusting he had released seconds before.
The cute has worn off now though, and all I smell in this house is egg. I’m waiting for the paint to start peeling and the dogs to start walking into walls. I’m hoping the mushroom cloud doesn’t release when the door opens in the morning and affect the neighborhood children.
Bless him, he’s still not feeling well and will have to stay home again tomorrow. He’s going to be with his dad all day and have a fun day of doing manly things.
I’m not sure even his dad will be able to compete in this game… but I can’t wait to hear about the competition. Let’s make all this our little secret until then.
I do love surprises!