The View From My Lap

Baby coughed his head off all night long last night.  He was super fussy, so he wanted his pacifier.  His nose was plugged up, so he couldn't suck on his pacifier.  He cried.  He woke up in a pool of snot with a decent fever.  He had that sad little pleading "help me, I'm sick" look on his face.  And in a gut reaction, I panicked.  It's been nearly four years since I stopped working, and I still got the sinking feeling in my gut that I had a sick kid and had to figure out what to do.  It was just a matter of seconds before reality hit me and I realized I didn't have to figure out anything at all.  But back in the day, it was a mental checklist.

1.  How high is his fever?  

2.  Can I dope him up and send him to daycare?  (You know, to infect everybody else.  You gotta do what you gotta do when you have a job.)

3.  What's on my calendar today?  A brief?  Gotta dope him up.  

4.  No brief?  Call and beg for a day off.  Then deal with the guilt of being home the rest of the day, and your people who will certainly try the same thing in a couple of days whether they have a sick kid or not.  "But Senior Chief took a day off…".  Ugh.  I was known for being a relentless hard ass, and taking a day off to tend to a sick kid didn't fit into my personality description very well.  "What, she's human?  Who knew!"

I told The Coach this morning that days like today are the reason I love being at home with the boys.  I don't have to dope him up, there is no brief, and I don't have to beg for a day off.  I mean really, how crappy is it to dope up your poor kid on meds and then take his sad little sick self to daycare?  Like he really wants to be there?  No.  He wants to be snuggled up on his Mama all day.  And that was a great feeling this morning.  I don't think it's much of a secret that I don't enjoy not working.  Notice I didn't say that I don't enjoy being home all day with the boys.  I do.  But I miss working.  Every once in a while I try and plead my "I need to go back to work" case with myself, and then a morning like today happens and it grounds me back to the reality of why I stay home to begin with.  Well, one of the reasons anyway.  

And I was really content this morning when the feeling of peace came over me and I realized it was just me and the sicko all day.  Well, me, the sicko and Jack.  So I gave baby some Ibuprofin and snuggled him up on the chair with me under a blanket.  He fussed.  He whined.  He moaned.  I had to pee.  He didn't care.  He whined some more.  He threw his cup at me (day four with no bottle, I threw them in the trash yesterday), he blew snot into my mouth in one gigantic sneeze.  He refused to eat.   It was 1300 before I got to brush my teeth.  

Bottom line, he was sick.  And wanted to make sure I knew it.  So, I decided to take a few pictures.  Because Disney Junior wasn't keeping my attention and I was bored.

Snuggly baby

Sickly red-eyed and snotty baby 

"Woe is me" baby 

Watching TV intently baby

"I can't believe she just put me down!!!" baby 

"I'm so sick, please pick me back up" baby

"Put that *(&^ phone down and pick me up, woman!" baby

"I hate this cup" baby

Too sick to eat baby

"You have to pee AGAIN?" baby

"No, you may NOT shower" baby

Traumatized baby

Sweet, sleeping baby

And last but not least, "Mom finally got out from underneath me" baby 

He is finally sleeping peacefully after hours of fussing and whining.  Jack is snuggled up next to him kissing him sweetly on the forehead.  And that means Jack is also being infected with all the sick snotty germs baby has to offer.

Countdown to the next sick boy starts… now!