That is what happened to us. Flat on our backs, out cold. All of us. ’Tis the season still, right? ’Tis always the fucking season when you have kids. But man, we got hit hard this last week. When thinking about what I should be posting on the blog, well, I really only had one thing on my mind.
I have never been so sick, so often, as I have been with kids. It’s insane. I feel like I’m sick all the time or at least fighting something. And it’s my fault, really. I don’t shy away from the snot no matter what. Miss M was our first introduction into the fluids that seep from a sick, little ball of dough. She had a soothie, and the snot from her nose would run down her tiny upper lip and attach itself to the damn thing. Miss M has been full of heart from the very beginning. If I sneezed, she would pop that plug out of her mouth and offer it to me, complete with a thick rope of snot hanging off the end. And I took it. Every time. It was gross as fuck, but she was showing love and I didn’t want to deny her. Pretty damn happy that Little Man never took to them.
This time it was Miss M that brought it into the house. She came back from a few days with the grandparents with a terrible cough. At nighttime it only got worse. Fucking Vicks everywhere. It was painful to hear. Then the next day she got better. And then the next day she got worse, a whole lot worse. At night the cough was fucking relentless. She would sit up and cry because it hurt so much. It was an exhausted and helpless cry, and there was nothing more we could do. Being helpless sucks. We did decide to panic at 3 in the morning, arguing about whether we should take her to the hospital and who should go because we both felt like shit as well. And then that passed. Miss M felt a bit better the next day but not well enough to go to the first day back at school. Little Man and Lady K were laid out too. I went to work feeling like I had licked it, only to be taken down that night. It took a few more days for us all to be right, but we made it through. Again.
It’s weird, but part of me enjoys us being all sick together. We get to snuggle a lot. We get to all sleep together, crammed into a bed too small for the four of us. And the kids are docile. No one’s tearing up and down the stairs, no one is jumping off my head onto the couch, no one is asking me to throw them in the air over and over no matter how tired my arms are. Yeah, I love all that stuff, but a little break from it from time to time is pretty fucking good.
We’re all healthy now, but winter is coming. Or is it here? Can’t tell anymore. But I do know there is another sickness right around the corner.
I can almost see the glistening snot, coming at me, once again.