The kids have been sick. It seems clear that the rest of the year is going to follow a standard pattern where Mia goes to preschool, Mia gets a cold, Mia is sick for two days, Mia gives her cold to Owen, Owen is sick for a week. And I would like to take a moment to offer a hearty "damn you" to everyone who was incapable of reading the directions on a bottle of children's decongestant and got them taken off the market.
Since Monday, along with having copious amounts of snot wiped on my clothes, skin and hair by my loving children who just want to share, I have cleaned my kitchen, washed, folded and put away eight loads of laundry, vacuumed the entire house twice, dusted, picked up toys at a constant rate, and turned a couple of pounds of sweet potatoes and avocados into baby food. And while all of that needed to be done at some point, none of it needed to be done while I had two sick kids trapped in the house, one of whom hasn't slept more than 20 minutes straight in five days. Yesterday, as I was reaching for the mop with Owen strapped to my back, it occurred to me to wonder why in the hell I was doing this instead of cutting myself some slack and plopping us all down in front of the tv for an hour or so. My conclusion is that I am more of a control freak than previously suspected. And since I can't control my kids getting sick and can't do anything to make them get better and can't even run to Target just to get out of the house for an hour, I control the only thing I can control. Which, apparently, is my grout.
Owen was just miserable yesterday. Whiny, clingy, sobbing miserably if I put him down, leaving actual puddles of tears and snot and drool in his wake as he crawled after me on those rare occasions when I did put him down. His eyes were glassy, his cheeks and nose were bright red, his temples were radiating heat. (Hey, is this just my kids or what? When they get fevers their foreheads are as cool as the proverbial cucumbers and their temples are hot enough to melt steel.) I kept taking his temperature (in the armpit, because ewww) and it kept showing normal. Normal. Normal. Now, I am all about medicating children when it comes to pain or fever and spring for the Tylenol bottle at the first sign of either, but I don't want to medicate them unnecessarily. So with a normal temperature, I didn't give Owen anything. Just hugged and kissed him and put him down for a 15 minute nap every hour or so. Finally at 5:00 I realized that dammit, I don't care what the thermometer says, this kid has a fever. A dose of Motrin and an hour later, he was devouring his dinner and giggling at his Daddy.
He had a fever. I need a new thermometer and to trust myself more.
The thing I want more than just about anything right now is a period of Nap Overlap every day. This almost never happens anymore, because Mia almost never naps anymore and Owen never naps during her enforced "Quiet Time." But something brilliant has occurred to me! Mia naps once or twice a week if I'm lucky and the rest of the time just plays in her room for an hour or so, which I call "resting." But since she isn't sleeping, I can make her do that whenever I want, and I want it to be when I am just about to put Owen to bed. Ta-da! Thirty minutes a day where both kids are, if not sleeping, at least not climbing all over me and sticking boogers on my cheeks.
Does anybody know how to get my kid to stop eating the coffee table?