Yesterday, Mr. Bean turned thirty-four months old. We celebrated by not being sick! It was magical.
Last week was not my favorite week ever. Tuesday night just before midnight, the Bean woke up crying. He does this occasionally, and usually it’s pretty easy to get him back to bed. Lately? Not so much.
I went in to see what was up with this non-sleeping kidlet. “Mommy I sick,” he said. I paid little attention to his assertion because he claims to be sick whenever he has to do something he doesn’t want. I reached in to sooth him back to sleep and snatched my hand back. Kid was on fire!
I tracked down our thermometer – 102.6. Guess he’s actually sick this time. He wanted some water and I wanted him to have some Tylenol, so we did that and then I carried him to my bed to keep an eye on him. His respiratory rate gets really high when he has a fever and it always freaks me out.
I got up at five to go lead my weekly 5:30 am run, and got back to my house just before 6:30.
I was just getting into my core workout when I heard the most pathetic whimpering from upstairs. This time the temp was 103.2.
I called in sick for me and the kid, handed out some more Tylenol, and then tried to get a little work done before he was awake.
He was awake pretty early, and Wednesday morning was no fun at all. Between the vomiting and the fever, Alvie was pretty miserable. It’s no fun having a really sick kid. I was trying to get him to drink something – anything – to replace the fluids. He didn’t eat anything all day although occasionally he’d ask for extremely large and elaborate meals. Pizza, cheese sandwiches, tater tots, cheeseburgers, milk, ice cream, and cookies. And then the nausea would set in.
Most of Wednesday – in between trips to the bathroom – was spent watching eleventy million episodes of Dinosaur Train. If you’d asked me before last week what my favorite toddler TV show was, I would’ve said Dinosaur Train. After a few days of over exposure, I found myself inexplicably attracted to Dr. Scott the Paleontologist, curious as the real parentage of the The Conductor’s “nephew” Gilbert, and gleeful every time I remembered that the Archelon (and everyone else) is extinct.
Wednesday night, Bean woke me up with his hysterical sobbing. He was soaked in sweat – guess the fever broke? – and was apparently having fever-induced night terrors. It took forever to get him calmed down.
Thursday I went to work for a partial day, and then I was home again with Alvie and Dinosaur Train submarine all day Friday.
I know that my days staying home with my kidlet are not representative of what a full time SAHM would be. When I do it it’s due to illness or inclement weather, greatly limiting our options for leaving the house. But Holy Odin, I was about ready to run away by Saturday noon.
So I did. But just a little.
Sick Alvie is a Velcro Alvie, so I couldn’t even use that time to get anything done other than just provide as much love and cuddling as humanly possible.
The one exciting things throughout this adventure? Not a single daytime potty accident – even throughout the fever and vomiting – and only one nighttime accident (and considering how many fluids I was pushing, that’s not surprising…)
Bean leveled up to Potty Training Achieved!
By Sunday afternoon, he was fine but cranky…still a bit more cuddly than usual, but also showing signs of appetite (not back to normal yet) and energy (ditto).
Hopefully – knock on wood and kiss a black cat – we’re good for the year. I’d like to maintain my cardiac health for a bit longer.