Sick Day

You adjusted to the end of daylight savings, you slept well during a vacation, and you've been putting up with the cold weather like you didn't have a Floridian gene in your body, but somehow, your immune system still caught a little bug. Last Thursday, you fussed when I put you down at night. This is something you hadn't done in quite some time, which was my first clue that something was wrong. As a nearly 11-month-old, you have a good understanding of your routine. You take a bath, you get a baby massage, you change into your PJs, you read a book, you nurse, and then peacefully go into your crib and put yourself to bed. What could be causing this change in routine?

Friday morning, I had to wake you up. Usually, you get up on your own. But that morning, all you wanted to do was sleep. You were not happy about being woken up. You nursed as usual, and then I handed you off to Daddy so that he could get you ready for school. As usual. Your bad mood turned to worse, but Daddy tried to push through with our routine. Despite his valiant efforts, you screamed as you reached for me. Daddy stood next to me and you crawled back into my arms. You rested your little head on my chest and sighed, and I knew that's where you'd spend most of the day.

These days, you're so busy. You're quick and curious and consistently value your independence, especially as a means of exploring your world. You have fleeting moments when you need a few extra mommy snuggles, but usually they're short-lived because they get in your way. But last Friday, you didn't want to leave my arms.

"Do you think we should keep her home from school?" Daddy asked. You didn't have a fever, though your nose was runny and your face was breaking out in the way it always seems to whenever you have any virus in your system. "I can stay home with her if you want," he offered. You probably could have gone to school. They certainly wouldn't have sent you home. But I took one look at your face and knew you needed me.

No, you weren't happy. And it wasn't something that Daddy could fix, or something that staying home would fix. You needed me. You spent the whole day in my lap, in my arms, curled up on my chest, more attached to me than you had been in months. I was reminded of how little you were once, and how much has changed since then. It was nice to know I was still just as needed, and I enjoyed the extra time together. At the same time, though, I worried because I was pretty sure this was your biggest bug to date. You got mad at me when I wiped your nose, and sometimes you coughed so hard that it scared you. It scared me, too. But we toughed it out, and after a day or so, you started to show some interest in your usual activities.

At first, we spend all of your waking hours like this:

You, attached to me, with a sleepy look in your eye. Me, emotionally drained but content because I knew you were on your way back. We just sat like that for hours. I talked with you, I sang to you. You even watched tv, which you NEVER do...not because I don't let you; you're just not interested. It was about Saturday afternoon when you started to sing again, and then you were crawling and cruising and playing all over the place. You even started to smile again!

Yep, that gunk on your face still stuck around though. Vaseline is our best friend in this house.

It's just amazing to me how much can happen in 48 hours these days. You went from completely miserable to good as new. I was so glad to be able to spend the day with you. We've been really lucky so far *knock on wood* that you haven't had too many colds, even with five months of daycare under your belt. I thought maybe if I could have spent a little bit of time comforting you, that investment would help you kick this thing sooner so that we could get back to our routine on Monday. I'm grateful to work in a culture that understands that, because sure enough, you were back to your usual antics the next week!