It’s terrible when your child is sick.
Sure, it’s partly because your precious little treasure feels like crap and you can’t suck it out of them with a Dust Buster. Or clap your hands three times to make it disappear.
If you’re a working parent, there’s a whole brilliant dance you need to work out with your job and co-workers. Pleading for a day off so that you can be at the beck and call of a petri dish of illness. Joy.
If you’re a stay at home parent, a difficult day becomes nearly impossible. You only have so many hands!
I can’t imagine if you have more than one kid! Or more than one that’s ALSO sick. I’m pretty sure my uterus just turned off the lights and quit for good at the very thought.
My very own hacking, snotty mess of a child is currently holed up in MY bedroom. Her little watery doe-eyes begged to be in my room because my mattress is “much more comfortable” than hers. Apparently the bed-ridden enjoy a spring in their back rather than their own brand new bed? Weirdos.
Strewn all over the covers and carpet are her weird disheveled tissues. My bedside table littered with the thermometer, a mug of tea, a glass of ice water and a stack of books.
I’m pretty sure she watched every Harry Potter Movie today.
I haven’t slept in two days because I’ve been too busy compulsively analyzing her warbly breathing, sneaking Breathe Right Strips on her nose and checking the humidifier every two seconds to relax.
I’m dreaming of dancing around my house with my Lysol spray.
I’ve been cursing every other bugger kid in her school who could have possibly infected her.
I just want her to go back to her regular self so I can be annoyed and aggravated for the normal reasons. This whole make. me. soup. i. need. a. tissue. do. i. have . a . fever . stuff. is out of control.
I feel a tickle in my throat and I’m feeling a little stuffy. Shit.