Sick

Yet another unpublished post. Ignore the fact that they are a little repetitive. This is from the beginning of January.

Though Christmas came first, and should therefore be recorded first, but I barely remember it.
We are still digging out of the rubble that was our house before the sickness bomb exploded, spewing out boxes and boxes of tissue, snot covered shirt sleeves and "great" pop for disguising grape flavored children's ibuprofen. It tested every ounce of patience we had to comfort a sobbing boy-for FIVE SOLID DAYS. Not five days of sickness-that has lasted much longer. But five days (and nights) of crying. It was awful and I felt awful just looking at those sick eyes. Ripped my heart out. He wouldn't eat or drink; he did, however, muster the energy to become an MMA fighter when we tried to alleviate some of the suffering with medicine. He also roared at me like a dragon and shot me with his toy rifle or his finger when he saw me coming with the medicine.
 It's amazing how the only place you want to be when you are sick is in your mom and dad's bed. I always did. Therefore, I went through a shocking amount of linens. Every time I changed the sheets, he'd cough or sneeze or spill (or all three) and I'd take the fitted sheet off and throw down the flat sheet. Within minutes his nose would have been wiped and the diaper leaking, so the flat sheet would go in the hamper too. He'd watch movies on the "peter" while sitting on the mattress pad. He'd spit out or drool whatever I was begging him to eat at the time and we'd wash it all and start over. I am ashamed of the filth I slept in...but I was so so tired.
Stella was sick and all but one night and morning were manageable. Even very sick she was happy and so sweet. We were so shocked when during aforementioned night and morning, she cried. She is so rarely sad so we knew she felt awful.

Also, we should note that Charlie fell in love with clay-mation during this illness. I find myself walking around the house singing the "Fireman Sam" and "Shaun the Sheep" theme songs. This is made worse by the fact that I am forced to sing them with Welsh and British accents, respectively. Because don't you know all good clay-mation comes from the UK? As a side note, the names of some of the characters are horrendous. Dyllis? Come on people...even in Wales that is unacceptable. Also, Dyllis always has curlers in her hair.

A few of our favorite words/phrases from the past few days:
"Shoot Ca-woe-ees"  (coyotes). He fake shoots them because we won't let him shoot people. This also what he claims as a favorite activity and conversation topic. Classy. Thanks dad.
"That's us-sus-ing" (disgusting) after swigging some medicine or big gulp of anything, then spewing it out across the kitchen
"that's dangerous" about anything he doesn't want.
"charlie, it's time for bed. lay down on your pillow."
"I cin't it's dangerous."
"Hi Sella Gwace" or "Hi, punkin"
He refers to nearly everything as his favorite and he has learned to melt our hearts by saying, "Mommy, best friend ever!" Then hugging and kissing profusely.
He adores tums. He complains of a tummy ache at least once a day. When I give him a tummy medicine (pink, not purple) he lifts his shirt up and rubs it on his tummy for a minute. Then, he tucks it up inside his shirt and pulls his shirt down. After a brief pause, he retrieves the tums and enjoys snacking on it.
Charlie always claims to be "hungreen" particularly when it is time for bed. A conversation goes like this:
Mom: Charlie it's time for bed
Charlie: No, no. I hungreen.
Mom: What do you want to eat?
Charlie: um, lotsa stuff
Mom: what kind of stuff?
Charlie: white stuff (or blue stuff or brown stuff-there's a little variation here)

When Stella cries he yells, "I take good care her" and runs for her
When he goes downstairs to play with a toy he says, "bye, now" and then closes the door. No idea where that came from.
Thanks to Dora and Diego there must be options in everything and the first two are always wrong. The third results in celebration. All this takes place in a very high voice.
Example:
Mom: Charlie can you look in your toybox for the orange car?
Charlie (sees the car immediately, but examines the first basket): Is it in dris one? No. Is it dris one? No. Is it dris one. Yeah! WooHoo. Great job (or good "dea" idea)

If anyone is eating or Charlie offers you something, he looks at you with these wide, sincere eyes and asks in the highest voice you've ever heard, "ist nummy?"

The moral of this story is, even though he is soooo busy and moves ridiculously quick, we love him. We adore him. We can't get enough of him riding his new green bike through the house or holding Stella's head back and forcing her binkie into her mouth. He dances in circles and sings "happy birthday" to himself upon being presented with any treat or dessert. It is amazing. He runs away from me. He hides in the public library, he uses the toilet to climb up onto the bathroom sink-where he stops the sink up and sprays water all over the room. He systematically unloads all of the food storage into his dump truck, which he drives about three feet from the cabinet, then dumps on the ground. He spits out anything he doesn't like or want onto the floor. He is incredibly stubborn and yells that it's "not a good place" for whatever you are doing that he doesn't like. After twelve hours of this non-stop busyness. He snuggles up with you, throws his arm around your neck and tell you he loves you and then you almost forget about everything else that made you want to laugh and cry all. day. long.

Stella is still a dream. She smiles and talks and coos to anyone who looks her direction. She patiently waits for anybody to pay her some attention, then she goes crazy. She rolls so much that she's having trouble sleeping. She rolls onto her tummy-even in her sleep and then cries because she hates her tummy. She watches Charlie and Daddy's every move. She smiles and laughs her head off at Charlie, who loves to put on a show for her. Stella is the perfect compliment to Charlie's wonderful madness. She is so sweet and just so peaceful. When I feel stressed, I love to hold her and just let her little spirit just calm me.

Man, it is hard and gross and oh-so-unglamorous and completely wonderful to be a mom. Even when they are sick.