Welp, it’s Wednesday morning and both of my kids are sick. This is something that I’ve heard would happen, but with our baby just approaching six months old, it hasn’t happened to us until now. I have a sinking feeling this is the start of parenting bootcamp.
Miles, age 2, has a fever and flu-like symptoms, which, given the rampant spread of Covid in recent weeks, makes me think that’s probably what it is. Whether it’s Covid or not, both kids need to quarantine at home, away from daycare, for at least seven days. Of course, this is after Linnea started daycare less than one week ago.
Linnea seems to feel mostly okay (for now), but a couple days ago she sprouted a rash on her legs, little purple and red dots that look… weird. A call to the doctor confirmed what a Google image search made me suspect: I’m pretty sure she has chickenpox.
SO! One case of Covid and one case of chickenpox and LET’S HOPE they don’t infect each other and get a Covid/chickenpox hybrid! Fingers crossed.
I’m either a better mother or a pushover when they’re sick
So here’s what I’ve been thinking about this morning as I realized I have one sick kid and one semi-sick kid on my hands: I’m a better mom when they’re sick. That sounds truly terrible, I know, like I have some sort of Munchausen syndrome by proxy (if you don’t know what that is, look it up, truly disturbing and fascinating stuff and it’s definitely NOT what’s going on with me). But really, I feel like the kids being sick is a challenge and it motivates me to rise to the occasion, to wake up in the morning, roll up my sleeves, and take care of business.
And another reason I’m a better mom when they’re sick is simple: I have to be.
When your kid has a fever and a sniffly little nose and he’s holding his arms out saying “carry me mama,” you’re going to carry him and carry him for absolutely as long as he wants you to, and you’re going to be extra nice and compassionate and caring. It’s maternal instinct and just plain human instinct. But when he’s feeling great and he asks me to carry him around, there’s a limit. After a few minutes I’m going to set him down because dang, he weighs 32 pounds and my arms are tired.
When your kid is coughing and looking up at you with his little red rimmed eyes and says in a tired little voice, “Bus?” —Indicating he wants to watch Cocomelon Wheels on the Bus — you’re going to let him watch Bus and Harvest Stew and the Animal Dance song and however many little ditties those cartoon Cocomelon folks can come up with.
When he’s tired and red-faced and probably dehydrated and starts demanding “JUICE! APPLE JUICE!” you’re going to give him as much apple juice as he damn well pleases and you’re not even going to cut it with water.
Wait, did I say my kids being sick makes me a better mom? I think I meant it makes me a pushover.