Thursday, January 14, 2010


I'm sending out this message from the trenches to anyone who may be listening out there. It's real shitty over here. Please send toilet paper, more tissues and hopefully some cough syrup. With codeine.

Monday-ish, E started getting sick. It started with two out-of-the-ordinary two-hour naps. In the same morning. This prompted me to relay this information, for assessment of course, to my generation's version of Dear Abby: Le Fazebook. I updated my status with E's odd napping behavior and remarked: "Ummmm, should I be worried? Or grateful? Cuz I wanna be grateful..." Everyone reassured me to just be grateful for the break, but I wasn't convinced.

Sure enough, my mother's intuition was right. By that afternoon, in the grocery store, she had that "sick" look to her; red swollen eyes, lethargic sleepy disposition, slight whimpering. Less than an hour later, she spiked a temp of 101.6. By bed time she had a half plugged up, half leaking nose and we officially had out first, honest to God, "E is sick" day.

I wasn't too worried. Her temp was less than 102 so I delayed the Motrin until that night. I let the fever do it's job and we did what we could to keep E happy and comfortable. Basically, I let her nurse as often and as long as she wanted. Which, to an addicted comfort-nurser like E, is a huge all-you-can-eat baby crack buffet. She took full advantage of the situation and spent much of the evening latched on.

After her bath, we dosed her little ass up with infant Motrin, and rocked her into a warm, medicated coma. She slept fitfully for a few hours so I brought her into our bed when we went to sleep. It was a rough night. 

When we awoke on Tuesday, I had a sore throat. Stephen tried to say something about it being related to the dry air from the heater but I knew. Mother's intuition again. I told him I was getting sick. By the time he got home from work, it was undeniable. I was officially Sick Mom, caring for Sick Infant. Dun Dun Dun....

Along with a sore throat, I have the itchy, watery eyes. I have the plugged up leaky nose. I have the chiils and the headache and the general uneasy-in-my-own-skin feeling. Last week, Stephen got the H1N1 vaccine from work (required and forced to do, under threat of disciplinary action if refused - go Navy). Maybe we got sick from it?

Which is whack because one of the reasons I breastfeed is to share my antibodies with E if I get sick so she can NOT get sick. Unfortunately, that equation doesn't work in reverse. If she gets sick first, she's just another outbreak monkey, spreading germs and illness with every sneeze and cough. Her infecting power is also greatly increased by the fact that no 5 month old has learned to (a) cover their damn mouth when they cough or sneeze (a fine spray of germ matter all over my face) or (b) wash their hands after touching something everything in sight. 

I'm sure my moment of corruption was either a blast of uninhibited booger spray to the eyes or any one of a countless number of contaminated fingers that she inserted, against my will, into the privacy of my own mouth while nursing. I tell her all the time not to do that shit because I know where her fingers have been.

The past couple of days have been a blur of piled up Klee-nex, impromptu couch naps and generous self-pity. All coated with a proprietary blend of baby-vomitted snot-milk that's sure to invoke the subtle gag reflex of even the most seasoned of crime scene investigators. 

As a side note, it's also EXTREMELY DIFFICULT to get a sick infant lulled to sleep when you can't stop hacking your lungs out. I try to hold it in but the tickle gets unbearable and I have to honk out a few painful, throat clearing coughs. This happens to coincide often with the very last moment before she falls asleep and we have to start the whole calming rocking routine all over again. NOT. FUNNY.

And sometimes there's poop. Poop leaking everywhere and making yellow mustardy looking puddles all over us and the house and the neighborhood. More than once a day, I am running a particular piece of baby clothing to the laundry room to be shot at with spray Shout and tossed into the ever-growing laundry tragedy unfolding on the floor.

Here it is Thursday and even though E looks like she is on the mend, I think I won't feel better until tomorrow. I figure I'm a day behind her, seeing as how she is the host of this illness. Either way, I have to pull it together and shower and dress in appropriate public viewing clothing tomorrow for her doctor's appointment. Hopefully when Stephen gets home I can relax and maybe catch some extra shut eye. 

I should also have some honey and lemon tea and gargle with some hot salt water - which I actually won't really do, even though I know I should, because it's GROSS. I make Stephen gargle with it so I know it works, but I don't make myself do it. He gets upset with me over it. Not because I won't help myself and self-medicate with it but because he's jealous he doesn't get his turn to watch me suffer through it. Haha, it's good to be the wife. 

But all joking aside, seriously... someone send me some damn cough syrup with codeine. I just need to make it through tomorrow and then the weekend is smooth sailing.


Slightly annoyed...
She looks like her Daddy here.

Come here and let me breathe on you, Dog.

I must infect you as well....

I have a surprise for you and I'll give you two hints:
1. It's in my diaper and
2. It's not diamond earrings.

I don't know if I forgot to mention this or not, but
I cancelled my nap today.
Is that gonna be a problem?

Nom Nom Nom.
Gotta keep my pandemic paw recharged for the next unsuspecting customer.

  What do you mean, you "think I kicked my socks off again".

I said I didn't....
Is there no TRUST in this house?!

1 comment:

katquilter said...

Poor things! Gramma wishes she were there to take care of you both! I would bring you some horehound candy.... do you know what that is? It's an old fashioned "candy" that is WONDERFUL on a sore throat. It may be available at CVS or even the grocery store.

I'm sure the doctor will look in her ears. That is something to keep an eye on. Her daddy and her uncles ALL had ear infections until they were about three? Who remembers? Watch for her to be tugging at her ears.

Gramma would eat those toes.

Great Photography, Mom!