Sweet Sickies or The Dreaded 90%

 When Nathan is sick it goes one of two ways:

     I either have the sweetest, cuddliest, most laid back boy who doesn't feel good, like last December when he ran a fever for the first time in two years and we couldn't find anything terribly wrong with him other than what seemed to be a nasty cold. All that day he lay around, or played gently with his cars. It's a very quiet, likes to cuddle with Mommy or, as in this picture, with his Frog and Wembley, Nathan. I hate to say it but I treasure these moments because I know what is around the corner once he starts to feel better.

December 2012
Feeling to icky to do more than watch Finley play
 and cuddle with his frog 

I love this kind of cuddle time but it always comes at a price.

     Or I have the "I'm 90% better" Nathan who is ready to run and doesn't understand
          a) why he doesn't feel quite as good as he normally does which makes him temperamental and
         b) why he and I are stuck in this house with nothing special to do when to his mind there is NOTHING WRONG!

     This Nathan shows up at the end of every illness often without an appearance of the sweet sick Nathan to console me. This Nathan is short tempered, hyperactive, on edge and finds fault with what would typically be the most fun of inside activities that I bring out to appease him. (Today he grumped about both painting and bubbles, PAINTING and BUBBLES!)

"I'm fine mom! So what if I was up till 2 am with a fever?
 I'm ready to go now!"

     I dread the 90% Nathan, and he always shows up when I am feeling the worst of the sick kids side effects. You know the drowsy "I'm not sick yet but a few nights of no sleep because the kids are sick will let something get at you" effect.

     So this is how today's 90% went...
     When your kids are sick your first step is to clean everything, right? Especially if you are dealing with a stomach bug. Did I get to do dishes because I went through every sippy cup we own in a Pedialyte frenzy?

This is a Pedialyte frenzy by the way.

     Nope. I spent an hour trying to get my son out of the PJ's he slept in and threw up in last night, he did not throw up on them, to be very clear, I have some small remnant of standards left.

     Did I fold the 5 ft tall pile of clean laundry that has resulted from washing every bit of my children's bedding, and the back up bedding, and a few other things that ventured too close to the bedding in question?

     Nope, I put my child in time out in his underwear because he shushed me every time I spoke to him during the hour I was trying to get him dressed.

     Did I wash the sink full of bath tub toys sitting in bleach water because, well... you don't want me to elaborate on why there are bath tub toys in bleach.

You don't want to know why the strainer is there either.

     The answer there is clearly...nope, because then I wouldn't have a picture of it, would I?

     So today's solution, after painting and bubbles didn't work was some intensive play therapy, meaning put Finley down for a nap and do nothing but play with whatever Nathan wants to, also there was The Daddy Break. Daddy came home, Mommy went to a quiet soup lunch out for an hour, and then came home to a tucked in for a nap Nathan.

Is that cheese in the bed?

     Maybe a nice long nap and an early bed time will help with some of the 90% sass that drives me so crazy. Or maybe some post nap laps around the back yard to work out the bounciness and wear him out for that early bed time. Once the children are in bed... then let the disinfecting begin!

      So now I just have to survive the "don't walk away, or put me down, or spend to much time not looking at me" Finley, which I find much more bearable, also she takes more naps.

You are going to hold my sippy cups when I'm 30, right mom?