Rex Harrison, Dr. Doolittle

Do you remember Dr. Doolittle’s ‘Push-me Pull-you?’  I think it’s going to be my daughter’s new nick-name.  You’d think that when Fig is feeling sick, all she’d want is a good snuggle with Mama.  Nope.  She wants contact, but not too much contact.  She’s very [...]]]> “Talk to the animals.”

Rex Harrison, Dr. Doolittle

Do you remember Dr. Doolittle’s ‘Push-me Pull-you?’  I think it’s going to be my daughter’s new nick-name.  You’d think that when Fig is feeling sick, all she’d want is a good snuggle with Mama.  Nope.  She wants contact, but not too much contact.  She’s very particular about how much of her body is being touched at any given time.  For instance, she likes to sit on my lap, but she doesn’t want my arms around her.  When I’m nursing her, she doesn’t like my top arm to be resting on her body.  Tricky.  Sometimes she’ll even squirm to get off of my lap, then cry and hold her arms out to me because she wants me to pick her up.  I can’t figure out what it is that she wants at times, and it seems that she doesn’t know what she wants either.  Pick me up or put me down? Push-me Pull-you.

I know it’s not helpful to compare my daughters, but it’s amazing to me that two girls who have been raised with the same amount of contact and love can have such different appetites for affection.  Pip loves nothing more than to be cuddled; the closer the better, whereas Fig is affectionate, but it has to be on her terms.

On Halloween night Fig went to sleep at 6:oo pm.  When she awoke at 5:00 a.m. the next morning, I thought she might be up for the day, so I brought her into my bed.  My typically un-snuggly girl turned to me and said, “Hug,” then she wrapped her little arms around me and patted me on the back.  It didn’t last long, but I’ll take what I can get.

Author Unknown

Is there anything more sad than kids being sick for a holiday?  I remember having the mumps as a kid one Christmas, but I don’t think I was ever ill on Hallowe’en.

Luckily, [...]]]> “I’ll bet living in a nudist colony takes all the fun out of Halloween.”

Author Unknown

Is there anything more sad than kids being sick for a holiday?  I remember having the mumps as a kid one Christmas, but I don’t think I was ever ill on Hallowe’en.

Luckily, Pip and Fig didn’t really know what they were missing.  Neither of them remember last Hallowe’en, so when we told Pip about ‘trick-or-treaters’ coming to the door, she was incredibly excited.  It didn’t even occur to her that she might go around to other people’s homes.

Our Hallowe’en went down like this:

First, we decorated the house, carved the pumpkin, decorated our front landing and got into costume.  Next, we had a little photo shoot and Pip enacted various scenes from The Wizard of Oz.

It was only five o’clock, but the girls started to watch for trick-or-treaters.

They waited, and waited, and finally, their cousins were brave enough to approach the house of illness.  Thank you family.  That visit was the highlight of our night!  Dorothy, the Tin Man and the Wicked Witch of the West had a brief, but exciting visit in our front foyer.  They were each asked to utter a few lines from the play and our lovely little witch said, “I love you Dorothy!”  Not necessarily the best character study, but certainly a heart-warmer.

After about five minutes, the cousins left our home to continue with the Hallowe’en festivities, and Pip turned to me and said, “That sure was fun, Mama.”

Bless her little heart.

“Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn’t learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn’t learn a little, at least we didn’t get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn’t die; so, let us all be thankful.”

“Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn’t learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn’t learn a little, at least we didn’t get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn’t die; so, let us all be thankful.”

Buddha

Don’t expect much from me this week.  (Such a statement isn’t exactly the best way to entice readers, but I’m going to tell it like it is.)  I feel LOUSY.  This is probably the most ill I’ve felt during Fig’s life.  Mastitis ranks high on the list of unpleasant ‘itises,’ but I’m suffering from a bronchial infection this time around, and it’s not pretty.  I’ve been coughing so much that my abs are sore.  (I wonder if I’ll come out of this with a six-pack.)

I’ve learned from this sickness that there is just no room for moms to be ill.  It doesn’t work.  Before I had a family, I would simply call-in sick and retreat to my cozy little cave.  I’d spend my time sleeping, reading, resting, movie-watching and of course drinking fluids.  Now I realize that the kind of recuperation time I enjoyed as a single woman was a luxury!!!   WHAT I WOULDN’T GIVE FOR A DAY IN BED!!!   There is no cave for the mother of two young kids.  Well, the cave is here, but the rest and relaxation are not.

I have also learned that thinking about what you’d rather be doing, when it’s just not in the cards, is sheer torture.  It does not help to send yourself messages like, “All I want to do is curl up and sleep,” when you’re changing your daughter’s diaper and she’s fighting you all the way.  It’s much easier to accept your current reality and make the best of it.  For instance, I managed to do a lot of horizontal parenting today, and the girls didn’t seem to mind.  There was more book-reading than bike-riding, to be sure, but it was still enjoyable for the girls and more comfortable for me.

This  nasty little bug has been taunting me for three weeks now, and just when I decided I was well-enough to take a family trip to the big city, it called all of it’s nasty-bug-relatives and declared war on my body.  I decided to rally, and do all of the things we had planned to do while in Vancouver, but I clearly overdid it.

Both girls have been suffering from colds during the past two weeks as well, and I find it impossible to focus on my own health when my children are sick.  Pip sleeps well through the night, even when she’s sick, but Fig has been averaging two wake-ups every night and it’s bloody exhausting!  Just when I think I’m on the mend, I have a night with little or no sleep and I’m back to square one.  It’s like my immune system is too tired to fight the good fight.

So last night at 12:00 pm, and again at 4:00 am when I dragged my coughing, sneezing,sleep-deprived body upstairs to nurse Fig, I thought to myself, “there’s no gratitude in this.”  But of course, there is.  For starters, I’m sick, but I don’t have a life-threatening illness.  I can’t imagine the bravery it takes to face that kind of challenge.  Secondly, my kids are generally pretty healthy.  This is small potatoes compared to what a lot of parents with really sick kids have to endure.  I volunteered at the Vancouver Children’s hospital years ago, and it was one of the most humbling experiences of my life.

Thirdly, this may sound kind of bizarre, but I’m repeatedly reminded of a woman I saw on Oprah last year.  I don’t watch the show regularly anymore, but I suppose I was meant to see this particular story.  A pregnant woman went into the hospital to give birth to her second daughter, contracted flesh-eating disease during her cesarean section, and had to have all of her limbs amputated immediately.  The hospital staff kept waiting for her to crash; become angry or depressed-but she never did!  She said that she felt lucky to be alive, and she had two beautiful daughters to love.  That kind of strength ASTOUNDS me!!!  She went home from the hospital without arms or legs.  Can you imagine?  I can’t.

So, although caring for two young kids while I’m ill is challenging, I know that things could be a lot worse.  For that I’m grateful, and sometimes, finding the gratitude isn’t easy.

Saint Teresa

Sometimes I marvel at the unlikely situations that fill me with pride.  Nose-blowing for example.

Pip has maintained a fairly positive attitude despite her nasty cold.  I feel as though I’ve been wiping her nose intermittently for the past two weeks, and I have [...]]]> “Be gentle to all and stern with yourself.”

Saint Teresa

Sometimes I marvel at the unlikely situations that fill me with pride.  Nose-blowing for example.

Pip has maintained a fairly positive attitude despite her nasty cold.  I feel as though I’ve been wiping her nose intermittently for the past two weeks, and I have a new appreciation for how she feels because I’ve now caught the bug.

I was reading her a bed-time story when I was overcome by a coughing fit.  ”I know you’re sick, Mama, but you just follow the dream that I had for you, the dream to not be sick anymore, and each day you’ll feel a little bit better.”  She comforted me by rubbing my arm, and as she was doing so, she noticed my attire.  ”Hey Mama, you’re really wearing a lot of black! You’re like one big black flower!”

She made me laugh, which in turn made her laugh.  ”Have you seen a black flower, Pip?”  I honestly wasn’t sure if there was such a thing.

“Of course, Mama, you’re a black flower!”  As my daughter showered sweetness upon me, a heavy stream of clear fluid started snaking its way out of her nose.

“Let me get a tissue for you,” I said.

As I was wiping Pip’s tender little nose for the umpteenth time I took note of a bit of chafed skin beneath her nostrils.  ”Was I gentle enough, Honey?”  I asked her empathetically.

She looked at me with sincerity and replied, “Mama, you’re the gentlest nose-blower in all the world.”

A title I’m extremely proud to hold.

Rebecca Krook

I was inspired by my sister yesterday.  (It’s not unusual, I’m frequently inspired by her!)  She’s home-schooling my five-year-old niece as well as working part-time and mothering [...]]]> “When kids play they remember, they may not be aware that they are learning, but they sure are aware that they are having fun.”

Rebecca Krook

I was inspired by my sister yesterday.  (It’s not unusual, I’m frequently inspired by her!)  She’s home-schooling my five-year-old niece as well as working part-time and mothering a younger son!  She has always been extremely organized, so I wasn’t surprised when I saw a timetable of children’s activities on her kitchen bulletin-board.  She schedules physical activity time, unstructured play-time, structured learning time, and off-campus lessons into her days with the kids, so that all bases are covered.

I thought of her schedule yesterday when I woke up to a wet and grey morning and was faced with the prospect of surviving a full day indoors with two sick children.   At 8:00 am, when both girls are usually in top-form, they were already melting down into a pool of discomfort.  What on earth were we going to do for the next nine hours?

When I was a teacher, I’d write an agenda on the board each day and call it, ‘The Shape of the Day.’  That’s exactly what our day needed: some shape!

After breakfast, I brought out the massive box of play-doh and assorted plastic accessories.  Pip and I taught Fig a few colours and shapes and we showed her how to roll the play-doh into a long snake.

Pip opened up a play-doh restaurant and prepared yellow and black spaghetti for us, then she made me a big black heart and said, “Here Mama, this is a big heart for all of your love.”  (I didn’t let Pip’s colour choice alarm me.)

The girls were happily occupied for almost an hour, and I enjoyed being their full-time facilitator.  Cleaning-up was great because Fig spotted the feather-duster and Pip wanted to use the broom, so there was some impromptu house-cleaning that took at least thirty minutes!

Next we got moving.  I put Peter Gabriel on the stereo, (he is one of Pip’s favourites,) got the ‘musical instrument basket’ out, and we danced for about fifteen minutes.  The girls then paraded around the house with their drums while I cooked lunch.

After lunch it was reading time.  The three of us cuddled on the couch and read a few books, then it was time for Fig’s nap.

Yay!  It was HALF-TIME , and everyone was in great spirits.

I won’t bore you with our afternoon activities, but I will say that structuring the day worked brilliantly.  I set aside housework, phone-calls and errands to create a completely child-centered day, and on THIS particular day, it was a wise choice.

It did feel a little bit like my days in the classroom, however, as a teacher, you dismiss your kids at 3:00 and have time to catch up on marking, prepping, making phone-calls, putting up displays and organizing the classroom!  Big difference.

It’s all one big balancing act, isn’t it?

George Bernard Shaw

Pip has caught a summer bug.  No, it’s not a grasshopper in a jar, it’s a sore throat and a runny nose.  We were supposed to attend a big family dinner this evening, but [...]]]> “I enjoy convalescence.  It is the part that makes the illness worthwhile.”

George Bernard Shaw

Pip has caught a summer bug.  No, it’s not a grasshopper in a jar, it’s a sore throat and a runny nose.  We were supposed to attend a big family dinner this evening, but Pip was running a slight fever, so it was decided that Fig and Big Daddy-O would attend on their own.

It was late afternoon when Pip and I found ourselves all alone in the house.  ”What would you like to do, Pip?”  I asked.

“Can we have a bubble-bath together?” was her quick response.  I used to bathe with Pip regularly when she was a baby; long before her younger sister arrived on the scene.  Now it was just too crowded in our little tub for the three of us, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a bath with Pip.

“Sure, Sweetie.”  I said.  I didn’t really feel like a bubble-bath at four o’clock in the afternoon, but I thought a bit of steam might be good for Pip’s sinuses, so I started running the water.

Pip helped me pour some lavender bath bubbles into the tub, and the scent inspired me immediately.  I decided to go all-out for our special bath.  I lit some candles and put on some relaxing, meditative music.  I got into the tub with Pip and she started playing with the bubbles while I just relaxed and watched her.

When I was single, living in my Kitsilano condo in Vancouver, I enjoyed many such baths on my own.  It was one of my favourite ways to unwind after work.  And here I was, only a handful of years later, sharing the experience with my three-year-old daughter.

We talked about Pip’s favourite topic as of late: The Wizard of Oz.  I washed Pip’s face and blew her nose and held her when she wanted to lie back and relax.  At one point she closed her eyes for a bit and it was so still, I could hear the bubbles dissolve around us.

After our bath I made soup, and Pip and I sipped warm broth from mugs while we watched The Wizard of Oz.  By the time Big Daddy-O walked in the door with Fig, Pip and I were snuggled together on the couch, completely caught up in Dorothy’s adventure.

No mother enjoys having sick kids, but I have to say that I loved the time Pip and I spent together this afternoon.  I think it nourished both of us.