I Hate Sick Kids

What evil person would every say they “hate sick kids”?  Me.  Now.  About my own kids, when they are sick.  It’s the worst.

My daughter transforms into a screaming grump who is only tamed by letting her lay on me while watching Sesame Street for seven straight days.  That’s right. It has been seven whole days.  I took her to the doctor because of her chain-smoker-like cough and her continual fever of 103 point something.  They couldn’t find anything wrong with her and said it is just a virus that needs to pass.

Now, I’ve got plenty of hippie in me that will do about anything to avoid antibiotics, but dare I say that I wish she could just be cured with some bubble gum flavored Amoxicillin.

I am being held prisoner by a two-year old and Super Grover.  She won’t sleep unless I’m sleeping with her.  But sleeping with her means laying in a very awkward position so she can pull my hair (her most treasured comfort measure) and scratch my face as she searches for it through the night.  She kicks and snores and oh, did I mention that I massive pregnant belly?  I’d be better off sleeping with a wild racoon.

Her sleep training flew out the window… all those nights of hard work to get her to sleep on her own, worthless.

My one beam of hope?  That she will have a stronger immune system after all of this is over and won’t get sick again until she is 25.  I don’t want to be that mom that freaks out about having her kid around other sick kids.  But after this experience, I’m ready for a bubble.

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