My tiny human woke up at 1am, and stayed up until 4am. This is (thankfully) NOT a regular occurence. I would die. But yesterday she was sick, and miserable. She whimpered in her crib for a while, until the whimper escalated to an angry wail, and the executive decision was made to pull her out. But not before Italian and I argued who was a worse parent for letting her whimper, and not pulling her out right away. Because that’s an important point to clarify at 1am.
Italian spent his entire day, acting as a toddler pillow, and a snot sponge. I spent my entire day, staring at my computer screen at a coffee shop – mostly because there is no white noise track loud enough to drown out the whining of a sick child. Must be something about the frequency and sound waves.
I put on gym clothes in the morning, packed my gym bag, then worked all day in gym clothes, and then took off gym clothes to take a shower in the late afternoon. All without having gone to the gym. I am thinking of good intentions, and road to hell here.
When I came home from not-gym in the late afternoon, a little delirious from hunger, she wrapped herself around my ankles, and screamed, until I picked her up, and carried her on my hip everywhere I went. If I held her, she conceded, and dialed the screaming down to a whining. She held on tight, and wet-coughed into my neck (and occasionally into my face). She breastfed, smearing my breast with snot.
Italian held her down, while I took her temperature. She screamed bloody murder, and we were both drowning in self-loathing, and guilt. It was a magical family moment.
My eats-olives-chicken-and-whatever-else-you-give-me toddler was gone.
Pork chop was a no-go. Vegetable soup was a no-go. Tomatoes – nope. Avocado toast – not really. Cheese. Yes. Always in the mood for cheese. Blueberries were a hit. Today. Tomorrow might be different. And, so cheese and blueberries it was.
It got worse before it got better.
The list of activities in the past 48 hours included: freaking out at the fact that I have never seen my child this lethargic, calling Telehealth in the middle of the night, going to the family doctor the next morning, and forcing pink goo of antibiotics to treat a bi-freaking-lateral ear infection down her throat.
All in all, I would have liked a refund on the last two days. But then something-something-resilience, tough times, universal human experience, growing stronger, developing immunity, no good without the bad. Blah blah.
Still want a fucking refund.