The boy is home from school again today.
He missed three days last week because of a stomach bug and now he has a very annoying cold.
My kid can’t seem to catch a break.
And neither can we.
He’s a bear when his nose is bothering him. He wiggles and whines and screams and goes insane. Same deal. Different day. Frequent topic.
It makes us all nuts.
And there’s no real way to explain to anyone what we go through in our house.
He’s an angel out in the world. He behaves, he is loving, he handles things. (Except occasionally at school, but that’s another post.)
At home though, when it’s just the two of us, or just the three of us, he is a different kid.
He is inconsolable, desperate, angry, sad, very physical, exhausting and exhausted.
He wakes in the middle of the night, will do nothing to help himself, but is insistent that we are awake and miserable with him.
We rarely get a full night of uninterrupted sleep.
Our son slams doors, throws toys, twists his body, flails his arms, furrows his brow, screeches, and screams, but he says nothing.
We try desperately to help him, but our efforts generally fail.
Last night, husband actually got him to take some Motrin. He was tired and it did help him to fall asleep, but he was up again at 3:45 and back to his routine of misery.
I asked him repeatedly what I could do for him.
I suggested all of the usual remedies for his bothersome throat and nose and I tried to comfort him.
I offered him a snack, some water, and a hug.
At 4:30, I gave up and told him I was going back to bed.
I closed the door to our room, but that made him crazy.
He got louder and louder and finally crashed something into the door.
Husband got up that time.
This morning has shown more of the same.
The boy is miserable from the cold and he wants everyone to know it and feel it right along with him. It’s maddening.
He took some more Motrin about an hour ago. He has eaten a hot dog and even exercised at my urging, but it’s going to be a long day in what already feels like an insanely long week.
Husband is gone for a few hours to catch up with a friend and I will get out for a while when he comes back, but I don’t know how far that will go toward preserving our sanity today.
It’s 12:15 p.m. and I’ve yet to make it out of my pajamas and into the shower. My hair is dirty and flat. My skin is colorless. Honestly, I look like the sick one.
We need a babysitter.
I’m starting to forget what my laughter sounds like.
P.S. The best thing to happen today? I got out the camera to make a video of his on-going tantrum and suddenly he’s a model – posing, smiling, saying “cheese” for all these photos.
He’s on the couch, watching a video now. Maybe I will get a shower after all.