Until this point in my parenting, I had not realized that the tops of ones hips can actually be rubbed raw from holding a child constantly. If you did not know this from your own personal experience, you have now been enlightened.
If I sometimes give the impression that we are all cheery smiles and happy joyousness here, forgive me for misleading you. I like to record the pleasant times more than the bad because those are the ones I want to remember. However a dose of realism is healthy and makes for good memories too...after some time passes.
This week has contained some of those moments during which one thinks, "And why was it that I thought having children was a good idea?" It's for the good of the human race that we are unable to fully comprehend the ramifications of a decision to bear children until it is far far too late.
On Saturday Emma came down with a fever and runny nose, which was not horribly a surprise because 1) I had a full week planned and whenever that happens we instantly all become ill, and 2) Nate and Evelyn had had a minor cold. The next couple days we didn't do much of anything.
By Wednesday Emma was very miserable. For Emma to act miserable, she has to feel pretty bad so to the doctor we went. She had the flu, the doctor informed me, she will be contagious for about 10 days, and everyone in the house is almost certain to get it also. I promptly drove to Chick-fil-a, throwing all sugar-free commitments out the proverbial window, and ordered a peppermint chocolate milkshake through the nonproverbial window. Yes, I know that sugar weakens your immune system and a combination of sugar and dairy is probably the least thing helpful for warding off the flu, but that milkshake was more of a help to my spirit than a detriment to my body at that moment. At least, that's my story and I'm sticking to it!
So the next few days were spent holding Emma, watching Handy Manny, rocking Emma, canceling all plans for the next week and a half, holding Emma, making soup, and rocking Emma some more. She is a terrible, horrible, no-good sleeper and the more she is held the more demanding she becomes. So by the end of the week she was waking up every hour all night and required extensive rigorous bouncing, while walking, (none of this lazy rocking in the rocking chair stuff) to go back to sleep. It's one of those things that you just survive minute by minute. Other than the sleeping, she has gotten progressively better since Wednesday, for which I am so thankful. Now she just has some lingering congestion.
Two days ago I realized that she was also cutting teeth and as a result she is on a nursing strike. She's done this before when teething. The time before this she bit me and I yelped, "Ouch!!", not even loudly or sternly, and she cried and was so traumatized that she refused to nurse for a day and a half. This time I did not respond at all when she bit me, just tensed up, but apparently that was enough and she won't have anything to do with nursing ever since. So I've been pumping and giving her a bottle and she eagerly drinks it down. I'm almost certain that her nursing strike is not because she has an ear infection because she does not have any signs of an ear infection. However I suppose that if she is still on strike tomorrow we will go get that ruled out.
Thankfully, no one else has developed the flu. We have all had at least a slight runny nose and cough, so maybe we all contracted a mild version? Though we are not yet completely out of the contagion period, I'm beginning to grow very hopeful that we are in the clear.
All in all, it could've been much worse but it felt pretty awful while in it. Very interrupted sleep, worries about baby developing pneumonia (just because shes "high risk" for her age), bored children stuck inside, worries about ruining your children's brains by letting them watch too much tv but too exhausted to do anything else, feeling like my arms might fall off if I have to rock anymore, and mealtimes and bills still rolling around at the same spectacular rates as usual....that pretty much sums up the week.
So while we do all love each other, very dearly, we have our fair share of non peachy times.
Although sometimes non peachy is good, as in the case of a peppermint chocolate milkshake. Peach is good, but chocolate is better. Not that this week was anything like chocolate. Unless by that you mean dark, lacking in milk, and somewhat bitter.
Sometimes all you can do is laugh or cry or best of all, a combination of the two. I'm hoping that next week will be one of slightly brighter days and sleepier nights.
