Last Saturday we ran errands. About 6 hours worth of errands. The errands ended with one kid asleep and the other helping his dad clean out the garage.
Well, by Saturday night, the helper wasn't feeling well. I chalked it up cold air causing the asthma lungs trouble and didn't think much of it. Elliott woke up Sunday morning with a terrible croup like cough and a very high fever.
Blah, blah, blah, right? Like you want a story of a kid being sick.
Well, by Wednesday, the croup symptoms and the fever were gone and they traded places with the flu. When I took him back to the doctor, our wonderful pediatrician told us he had a rare strain of flu she jokingly called the "bed rest flu" because she said that a lot of parents actually like this flu because their kids are sick and achy, but there is no puking and lots of sleeping involved. But after a few doses of steroids for his lungs, antibiotics, and tamiflu, the kid is starting to perk up.
The only problem was, that my sick little fart gave it to me and I've spent the last few days miserable out of my head and pretty much horizontal on the couch wrapped in blankets.
It's times like this when you really have sympathy for your kids and learn a few lessons about life, the boy that lives in your house, and yourself. I knew that Elliott was sick and that he didn't feel well and that I was trying my best to take good care of him. But not until I got zapped with the bug myself did I realize how absolutely miserable this little guy has been for 6 days. My heart just poured out for the kid.
I also realized that my little boy is getting so much older and more mature - he is, at 5 years old, so much more self aware than he was even a few months ago. He knows when he doesn't feel well, he can tell me specifically what's wrong with him, and when he asks to go to bed and lay down I know that he's really growing up because that is nothing a little fart like him ever wants to do.
It's been a tough season trying to protect my kids from all the sickness that generally falls upon them in the winter time. Having a mild fear of their asthma has led me to keep them inside more often than I probably should, and be much more nervous than I need to be. But, (knock on wood) we made it through the whole winter without something terrible that usually befalls us (them and me indirectly) and a few sick days in the last 4 weeks is really pretty good for both of my little squirts.
Now....I just need to get some weight back onto my skinny 5 year old. He lost 4 pounds this week and needs to eat milk shakes 24 hours a day for the next 6 months.