Friday, February 11, 2011

The Long, Hard Slog

The Peanut is sick today with a cold/flu thing that has been going around school the past week or so.  You know it's a sick day when they wake up snuffly, achy, fevered and begging to watch a Pooh Bear movie.

At our house, comfort Pooh Bear viewing is a definite sign.  The fever and need for constant kleenex access were pretty sure bets, too.

As a mom, I dread a sick day because I'm always trying to figure out how to instantly make my child well.  Although, at this point with seven and a half years of mommy-hood under my belt, I know that is impossible, but I still try nonetheless to  make things better.

So it will be as quiet a day here as we can make it -- punctuated, I hope, with a nap and some time in bed reading, and most likely a long soak in the tub with some vapor bath in the water to unstuff things a bit.  Whatever it takes.

This week, for some reason, has been a long, hard slog. 

(Photo via Pinti 1.  Gorgeous shot -- love the frost on the plants on either side of the path.  Just felt perfect for this morning's mood.)


Christy Hardin Smith said...

Taking a moment to share that I am the world's meanest mother because I want my sick child to take a nap. I have decided to make myself a badge and wear it with honor. *g*

Motherhood -- it's not for sissies.

ckc (not kc) said...

...wait 'til they're 24, half a continent away, you haven't heard a word for weeks, and you get an email that they've gone to a walk-in clinic after 2 weeks with a chronic cough - and all you can think is 1) is she an adult yet? and 2) can she make it without us? If you're the world's meanest mother, it's a million-way tie.

Christy Hardin Smith said...

My father told me when we had The Peanut that being a parent is like having your heart walk around outside your body. It was something that stuck with me because it has proved to be so true for me, day in and day out.

It's good that they grow into independence -- something you hope they all do really well, right? -- but on some level I think they stay that tiny little football-sized bundle of helpless joy that used to sleep on top of you in the early days, too. Being a parent is really tough work when you do it right, isn't it?