Sick kids

There is a time in most people's lives when they contemplate whether or not to have children.  The majority of adults think, "Wouldn't it be fun to have kids?  Wouldn't it just make our lives complete?  Wouldn't it be wonderful to have little ones to love and guide and mold into amazing human beings?"  No one ever stops these adults and says, "But, wouldn't you love to save thousands and thousands of dollars, hundreds and hundreds of sleepless nights, tens of tens (is that a unit of measure?  You know what I mean.) of loads of laundry containing puked on pajamas and pillowcases, and a handful of trips to the emergency room?"  Regardless of this warning, most of us would still have chosen parenthood over an adult life full of freedom and spontaneity.  My husband and I chose to have two children.  Regardless of gender, cuteness, athletic ability, or health, we decided to have two.  Since we did not have our first daughter until I was 32 (the second was born when I was 34), two was enough for us.  Babies are born.  You care and nurture them.  You hold them when they cry and clean them when they get dirty.  Eventually, they start to grow up and need you a little less every year.  That is, until they get sick.

Today, I am home with my seven year old daughter.  She fell asleep three times before her actual bedtime last night, so I knew something was wrong.  A temperature of 102 degrees confirmed why she was running on fumes, and she fell asleep again after some medicine.  Although there was no fever this morning, I kept her home from school today to avoid getting a call from the school secretary two hours after school started.  (Sure enough, by 10:30 a.m., her temp was at 99.4 degrees).  You wouldn't think seven is a very independent age, but my daughter is not a very needy, clingy, snuggly kid. However, when she is sick, she once again is my baby girl.  She lets me hold her.  We lie in bed and watch television.  She smiles and says she loves me.  I watch her take a nap and am amazed at how thick her eyelashes are.  Having a sick child is not fun for anyone; not for me, not for her.  What it does do is makes me feel like a mom.  It's not like I do not feel like a mom everyday, but it makes me feel like a mom doing everything right.  I know how to make her fever go away.  I know how to help her cough and stuffy nose.  I know what shows she likes to watch, and I even know how to get her to take a nap (even though she says she doesn't need one).  The less our kids depend on me, the more I question if I am parenting them the correct way.  When they do not feel good, I am reminded of when they were babies.  No one tells new parents that the baby-stage is the easiest.  It may seem like the most difficult phase the first time you go through it, but you long for the days of diapers and and baby food after arguing with a nine year old why she has to clean her room or do her homework.

So, the next time one of your kids is ill, try not to see it as a burden.  Take the time to remember how sweet they were when they were babies.  Recall the nights you held them when they had their first cold.  Remember how they relied on you for everything, and how you asked yourself, "Is there anything more helpless than a sick child?"  The answer to that question is, "Yes...a sick husband."