Not Again
About a month ago, I made a passing reference to Abbie being sick. It was no big deal, just a little head cold. It was enough to give her a runny nose and cough, and maybe a little extra irritability, but I could deal with her; she was no more insufferable than an average toddler.
Since then, the cold bounced to the boys, me, the boys again, and back to me. Through it all, Ellie has remained healthy, and the only thing snotty about Abbie is her attitude around snack time. I was sick, tired, and irritable, but I dealt with it and never took it out on the kids unless they really deserved it.
Finally, the boys’ noses dried, and my sinuses quieted. My throat soothed. My headache eased. My box of tissues lasted for more than two days. By tomorrow, our house would be as virus free as a freshly reformatted hard drive.
And then Ian came down with an ear infection.
I should have known something was wrong while we were out of town. Ian woke up yesterday morning early and grumpy. I assumed he was off his routine after 48 hours of choosing between a Pack ‘N Play and his car seat for sleeping quarters. He never cheered up that morning, not for grandpa, not for grandma, not for grandma’s Jell-O Jigglers. He wasn’t screaming more than usual, but he was sullen and unhappy, like he’d go Goth if only we’d let him wear eyeliner.
We packed everyone in the truck after lunch, and I expected Ian to sleep most of the ride home. He slept for the first sixth of our three-hour drive. By the grace of God, a Sesame Street DVD, and a bunch of Fruit Rings, we returned home without too much screaming.
Ian fell back asleep just before we arrived home. Again, this was unusual for him to take two naps on a three-hour ride, and again I attributed it to fatigue. I left him to sleep in the truck as I unloaded. He awoke about the time I unloaded their booster seats. I brought him in the house with the seats to play alongside Tory as I prepared supper.
Tory played his usual game of “What’s in the cabinets?” while Ian opted for “How hard can I scream this time?” The object of this game is to scream as hard and as long as he can, and try to beat that time on his next breath. I would’ve loved to console him, but my two relatively calm children were losing their patience waiting for supper. I dumped him in his crib to let him scream in safety while I microwaved a meal. Of course, he was asleep by the time the microwave sounded its final beep.
Ian awoke about the time Tory and Abbie finished their supper. I strapped him in for his meal, and watched him refuse sustenance. He thrashed in his seat, and spit out anything I managed to land in his mouth. Tory was happy to eat his leftovers. I was concerned about his well being, but chalked it up to the missed routine.
Ian spent last night alternating between screaming and sleeping. I managed to coax a cup of milk into him just before bedtime, and set him down for the night eager to see what a good night’s sleep could do for him.
This morning, his attitude had improved, though he was still sullen. He ate well all day, but never looked happy doing it, not even for blueberry yogurt. He also didn’t nap well, which finally gave me the smack upside the head I needed to realize something might be wrong.
When he woke for supper tonight, he felt warm, and was unhappy. He ate, though he degenerated into an inconsolable mess immediately after finishing his milk. Mama took his vitals, and found a moderate fever and a swollen ear. Again, he spent most of the night alternating between screaming and sleep.
We’re visiting the doctor tomorrow unless he wakes with a giant grin that says “April Fools!” I don’t expect the doctor to give us anything to help, but at least we can document the ear infection. Maybe he can at least tell us how to finally kill this thing going through our family.
Since then, the cold bounced to the boys, me, the boys again, and back to me. Through it all, Ellie has remained healthy, and the only thing snotty about Abbie is her attitude around snack time. I was sick, tired, and irritable, but I dealt with it and never took it out on the kids unless they really deserved it.
Finally, the boys’ noses dried, and my sinuses quieted. My throat soothed. My headache eased. My box of tissues lasted for more than two days. By tomorrow, our house would be as virus free as a freshly reformatted hard drive.
And then Ian came down with an ear infection.
I should have known something was wrong while we were out of town. Ian woke up yesterday morning early and grumpy. I assumed he was off his routine after 48 hours of choosing between a Pack ‘N Play and his car seat for sleeping quarters. He never cheered up that morning, not for grandpa, not for grandma, not for grandma’s Jell-O Jigglers. He wasn’t screaming more than usual, but he was sullen and unhappy, like he’d go Goth if only we’d let him wear eyeliner.
We packed everyone in the truck after lunch, and I expected Ian to sleep most of the ride home. He slept for the first sixth of our three-hour drive. By the grace of God, a Sesame Street DVD, and a bunch of Fruit Rings, we returned home without too much screaming.
Ian fell back asleep just before we arrived home. Again, this was unusual for him to take two naps on a three-hour ride, and again I attributed it to fatigue. I left him to sleep in the truck as I unloaded. He awoke about the time I unloaded their booster seats. I brought him in the house with the seats to play alongside Tory as I prepared supper.
Tory played his usual game of “What’s in the cabinets?” while Ian opted for “How hard can I scream this time?” The object of this game is to scream as hard and as long as he can, and try to beat that time on his next breath. I would’ve loved to console him, but my two relatively calm children were losing their patience waiting for supper. I dumped him in his crib to let him scream in safety while I microwaved a meal. Of course, he was asleep by the time the microwave sounded its final beep.
Ian awoke about the time Tory and Abbie finished their supper. I strapped him in for his meal, and watched him refuse sustenance. He thrashed in his seat, and spit out anything I managed to land in his mouth. Tory was happy to eat his leftovers. I was concerned about his well being, but chalked it up to the missed routine.
Ian spent last night alternating between screaming and sleeping. I managed to coax a cup of milk into him just before bedtime, and set him down for the night eager to see what a good night’s sleep could do for him.
This morning, his attitude had improved, though he was still sullen. He ate well all day, but never looked happy doing it, not even for blueberry yogurt. He also didn’t nap well, which finally gave me the smack upside the head I needed to realize something might be wrong.
When he woke for supper tonight, he felt warm, and was unhappy. He ate, though he degenerated into an inconsolable mess immediately after finishing his milk. Mama took his vitals, and found a moderate fever and a swollen ear. Again, he spent most of the night alternating between screaming and sleep.
We’re visiting the doctor tomorrow unless he wakes with a giant grin that says “April Fools!” I don’t expect the doctor to give us anything to help, but at least we can document the ear infection. Maybe he can at least tell us how to finally kill this thing going through our family.
posted by Matt at
11:18 PM
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