At the pediatrician’s office last week, Connor’s doc said what were perhaps the most accurate words I’ve heard about toddler-hood so far. She said that all preschoolers are either 1) currently sick, 2) recovering from being sick or 3) about to get sick again.
Oh, my goodness! It’s like a viral triathlon… Why doesn’t anybody tell you about this at the baby shower? (Also, why doesn’t anybody mention the weird underwear they give you at the hospital after giving birth? — because *that* was another surprise.)
Cocobaby’s in the thick of the frequent illness phase. She’s already caught a cold, or a cold-like virus, a few times in the past month, ’cause apparently three-year-olds are Petri dishes.
She’s just getting over the last virus, on top of which she also had a sinus infection, so the last few weeks have been very challenging, first, for her tiny virus-fighting body, but also for the rest of us.
It’s been quite scary at times. There was a night a couple weeks ago when we’d gotten dressed and ready to rush her to the emergency room after her fever spiked. Luckily, it quickly started to fall. I’m very thankful for the sound advice and steady guidance of the kind Kaiser advice nurse who helped us that night because my nerves were frayed.
Nobody in our house has been getting much sleep. (This, of course, to Rosie’s delight. She must think she stepped into a family of night people!) It’s been like living the newborn lifestyle all over again, with me and El Hub sleeping beside Connor in shifts. My body feels that same familiar dull ache of exhaustion… Weirdly enough, it was surprisingly easy to get used to again… Like riding a bike.
It’s scary watching a child who can’t really communicate the way they feel yet, and knowing you have very little control over any of it. All you can do is care for them the best you can, take them to the doctor, and try to make informed decisions. You do what you have to, ignoring your throbbing knees and aching back to hold them in your arms as they cry at the witching hour in a dark bathroom filled with steam until they feel a little better and finally fall asleep. You run to Target at obscene times of night in pajamas crusted with snot to pick up more Pedialyte, saltines and tiny Disney Princess toys because you know they make her smile.
Basically, you do what you have to.
Anyway, this is what I’ve been up to for the past few weeks. Just doing the best I can.
Your friendly neighborhood beauty addict,