Sick Kid
My poor little man is sick. Saturday night he had a cough, Sunday he was a little grumpy and by Monday morning he had a fever. The Husband stayed home in the morning and then the Nanny took over in the afternoon. I got home just before 5 and then the chaos started. As I have mentioned before, fevers send us into a panic. It becomes a heart wrenching waiting game for the fever to drop and I brandish a thermometer like a sword.
When I got home last night, his cough was terrible and his fever was starting to rise. I gave him some cake because he asked for it and if he had asked for some blow and hookers, I would have been on the phone stat. When he is sick, he gets what he wants. I make no apologies. Half way through the cake, he started to choke, because of course, which led to me sticking my hand into his mouth to dislodge the cake and because he was so grateful, he promptly threw up every.where. I changed him and cleaned him up and brought him to the living room where he sat on the sofa and looked miserable, making my heart hurt.
I started dinner, checked his temperature every 30 seconds and then decided to give him a painkiller to bring down the fever. As soon as his fever reaches 38.3, we go into Code Red. Damn febrile seizures, always lurking around the corner. He saw the little cup of "happy juice" (medicine) and took off for our bedroom. He hid under the covers and I bribed him to take a few sips. He complied and I walked away to clean out the cup and "BLEEECCCHHHH". Dude, no. Not the duvet.
I brought him to the bathroom and changed him and cleaned him up and threw our sheets into the washing machine and I cried a little and he didn't because he felt fabulous again and we headed back to the living room for some cartoon watching. I checked my watch, I had been home for 45 minutes.
I worked on dinner and ran between the kitchen and the living room to make sure he was ok. My Fitbit was like "Dayum girl, you overachiever". I checked his temperature and it was 38.5 and I was about to have a stroke and I filled up the cup with the "happy juice" because he of course had not retained it earlier and I bribed/threatened him and he took a big sip and I sighed in relief and wa... "BLEEEEEECCCCHH" Oh, for the love of God. I brought him to the bathroom, cleaned him up and changed him and he thought it was hilarious to run his pukey hands through my hair. (Bet a bunch of you are checking the expiry date on your birth control right now, huh?) I put him on the sofa and texted the Husband.
"He threw up for the 3rd time" Translation: "You better get your ass home or I will hurt you."
"Just at Billa, will be home in 5 minutes." Translation: "Bitch! I was home with him all morning. And for that text, I'm going to forget to weigh the fruit so the cashier has to take her time."
When the Husband finally got home, I could finish dinner and we ate in the living room so we could both watch the Kid. His fever finally broke and went down and I brought him into our bed with clean sheets and we both promptly passed out. At 5 this morning he was back at 38.4 and Code Red was on and luckily this time we didn't Excorcist the "happy juice". And now here we are, early morning on the sofa. The Husband is staying home for another morning and if the Kid isn't fever-free for the next 24 hours, I will be at home tomorrow morning.
I hate it when he is sick and I hate that I turn into a harpy every time his temperature goes above 37.9. One day I will look back and laugh and laugh. But not today, today I need a frozen margarita and some salsa and maybe another frozen margarita. Happy Cinco de Mayo, everybody!
I started dinner, checked his temperature every 30 seconds and then decided to give him a painkiller to bring down the fever. As soon as his fever reaches 38.3, we go into Code Red. Damn febrile seizures, always lurking around the corner. He saw the little cup of "happy juice" (medicine) and took off for our bedroom. He hid under the covers and I bribed him to take a few sips. He complied and I walked away to clean out the cup and "BLEEECCCHHHH". Dude, no. Not the duvet.
I brought him to the bathroom and changed him and cleaned him up and threw our sheets into the washing machine and I cried a little and he didn't because he felt fabulous again and we headed back to the living room for some cartoon watching. I checked my watch, I had been home for 45 minutes.
I worked on dinner and ran between the kitchen and the living room to make sure he was ok. My Fitbit was like "Dayum girl, you overachiever". I checked his temperature and it was 38.5 and I was about to have a stroke and I filled up the cup with the "happy juice" because he of course had not retained it earlier and I bribed/threatened him and he took a big sip and I sighed in relief and wa... "BLEEEEEECCCCHH" Oh, for the love of God. I brought him to the bathroom, cleaned him up and changed him and he thought it was hilarious to run his pukey hands through my hair. (Bet a bunch of you are checking the expiry date on your birth control right now, huh?) I put him on the sofa and texted the Husband.
"He threw up for the 3rd time" Translation: "You better get your ass home or I will hurt you."
"Just at Billa, will be home in 5 minutes." Translation: "Bitch! I was home with him all morning. And for that text, I'm going to forget to weigh the fruit so the cashier has to take her time."
When the Husband finally got home, I could finish dinner and we ate in the living room so we could both watch the Kid. His fever finally broke and went down and I brought him into our bed with clean sheets and we both promptly passed out. At 5 this morning he was back at 38.4 and Code Red was on and luckily this time we didn't Excorcist the "happy juice". And now here we are, early morning on the sofa. The Husband is staying home for another morning and if the Kid isn't fever-free for the next 24 hours, I will be at home tomorrow morning.
I hate it when he is sick and I hate that I turn into a harpy every time his temperature goes above 37.9. One day I will look back and laugh and laugh. But not today, today I need a frozen margarita and some salsa and maybe another frozen margarita. Happy Cinco de Mayo, everybody!
Comments
Post a Comment