It has been a whirlwind of sick and tired for the last week and a half. We recently went on vacation. My 11-year-old was finally over her cough, but my 2-year-old was starting to act in such a way that had me on edge. I finished packing and hoped for a miracle. We left Thursday at the butt-crack of dawn (what a strange expression to describe pre-dawn) and started our winding path to Alabama. Going 50 mph down a twisty, two-lane road at 3 a.m., will leave anyone gripping the arm rest on the car door until your knuckles are white. We made it to the highway though. But it became very apparent that daughter number 3 was not feeling well. By the next night she had croup. To say that sleep was elusive the whole trip would be generous. We still had an amazing time, the only thing lacking was her sweet little personality. Little did I know, it would get much worse. On Sunday, she was no longer croupy, but everytime she sneezed you had to duck and cover and then hose her down. The souvenir mommy brought home, (besides an awesome ‘Moe’ t-shirt) was a sore throat. This was the sore throat from Hell. Honestly, I thought I had strep on day one, but then I remembered that strep felt more like knives being run slowly, back and forth, over and over, on the inside of your throat. This sore throat was more like someone was going to refinish the color of the back of my throat (I guess angry red is the new pink!) and they used the grittiest sandpaper they could find. I knew the week was going to suck before we even made it home. As sick as my little peanut was, a part of me was glad. If she had been well, there was no way I could have kept up with her normal energy. I had none. I’m pretty sure I used everything I had in reserve too. Monday I took her to the doctor. Nothing wrong. Lungs sounded good, ears clear, nose and eyes okay too. I was told to let it run it’s course and try some warm honey water. Let me tell you this: my daughter does not, in fact, like warm honey water. I got a resounding shout of “No Mommy!!” followed by a thrown Hello Kitty cup. She loves that cup. She hugs that cup. Mikayla-1, honey water-0 After a quick reminder that “we do not throw cups at Mommy”, I told her I would make the honey water cold. Guess what? Cold honey water must taste just like warm honey water. At least I didn’t get a faceful of cup that time. Honey water packed up and left after that, no note or anything. We battled to get liquid in her. I battled my sore throat turned cough. We slept a lot. She had fevers. She whined mommy after every cough. She shoved her sisters away! This was unheard of behavior, because she loves her “sistuhs”. By Wednesday, my body’s energy left me and moved in with honey water…bitch. Josh came home and I decided I needed to get medicine. This wasn’t a little cold and I was burnt out from my tiny, human koala bear of a daughter. He took one look at me and said he’d go get it. I took some. I’m not gonna lie, it might have been what I always imagined poison tasting like. It was awful, but I had to start somewhere. Bedtime was early for Mikayla and I, but nightmares for her and coughing fits for me proved to be perfect for sleep obliteration. I called Josh on Thursday to talk and worried him enough to leave work early. We slept the sleep of girls who touched a poison spindle. It was glorious, until the next coughing fit. A good coughing fit will have your temple throbbing and make you feel like there’s a tiny soccer player right behind your eyeball kicking it repeatedly. If you’re lucky, you’ll hack up a tiny less-than-a-pea sized ball of phlegm. If not, the fit will have made you cry and maybe your nose will be a little runny and possibly productive. My salvation came in the form of a small, blue pill. No, Viagra did not save me from another sore throat, but Aleve did! Glorious Aleve! I feel like I should write a sonnet about it or an ode. There aren’t enough odes in the world. Ode To Aleve, my little blue pill, no more pain in my throat, ah, what a thrill… Damn, I sound like I took Viagra again, huh? Okay, odes aside, my throat on Friday morning wasn’t sore. The first time in five days!!! I almost danced around a little…almost. Unfortunately, while I took a happy turn, babygirl was worse. She had a huge crying fit that made me wonder if aliens had taken away my real daughter and sent me this human clone in her place. I pulled some gunk out of her ear and took her temp. 99. A far cry from the scorching 102 from the night before, but my gut instinct cried out in a voice that sounded strangely like Miss Clavel “Something is not right!” She perked up a little, but I made the appointment anyway. A double ear infection and a ruptured eardrum later and I was on my way to get her some well-deserved antibiotics. It turns out severe pressure and pain will make you shriek like an alien clone. One day on “the good stuff” and she was back. She asked for her sistuhs first thing when she woke up, and I hugged her close and told her I had missed her. We’re both on the mend, but I don’t want to see sickness again anytime soon. Oh and energy came back to me head down and a little ashamed. Apparently that hussy, honey water, was two-timing my sweet energy, with a lemon!! Yep, we’re back to normal…ish.
How do you cope with being sick along with your little ones?