#22- The Mom Cold

mom cold

I’m sick.  The mom cold has hit. I brought home a nasty cold from school.  I’ve been saying to the coughing, sniffling, sneezing kiddos at school, “Cover, Cover,” in my sweet sing-song music teacher voice all week.  They don’t listen just like my own kids.  I remind them where the tissues and the sink are but they assure me they are all set.  And then those sweet little germ-heads tell me they love music day and give me a hug.  Dammit!

I can’t sleep from the coughing and the sinus pressure feels like something is going to burst.  But the only thing that has burst so far is my patience.  It’s a three-day weekend here and I have been so edgy with my own kids.   Why on Earth do they have so much energy when I have none?  And where have their inside voices gone?  It’s like that thing hides as soon as I start sniffling.   I apologized to my husband for being so short with the kids this weekend and he pled the Fifth.  Yup.  He knows better.

But I’m the mom, so I allow myself a short nap and then get to work.  Meal prep includes extra-spicy salsa chicken this week to clear some of this junk up.  Laundry is just about done.  I’m sure I forgot something when I went shopping- but as long as it’s not coffee filters, I think we’ll survive.  The house is clean-ish.  Just take a quick peek for Hot Wheels or crayons before you step.  (Real moms know Legos may hurt the most, but tiny cars and crayons can land you on your behind).

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Who’s next

But here’s the worst part of the mom cold – Sweet Boy has been sneezing today.  Hubby has been too.  I’m sure Girlie will be soon.  But Sweet Boy is the worst.  We’ve been dealing with some 4 1/2-year-old rebellion lately and I really don’t want to add asthma meds into that mix.  Will we need the Angry Bull medicine or the Drunk Squirrel medicine? Will he sleep?  Will he need antibiotics or prednisone?  Will he need a trip to the pediatrician or a trip to the ER?  You see, when you have a kid with asthma, a cold is never just a cold.  And I gave it to him.  It wasn’t some kid at daycare.  It was me.

We’ve been on this bus before, and we’ll be on it again.  But it really bothers me when the boy has been tolerating his sick and moody mom all week and now will get his own week or two of misery.  I guess that’s all part of being a mom – as miserable as I feel, I know that if I get my family sick, I’ll feel even worse.

Photo by Ambrose Little


#13-There’s Something About September

It’s September which means Old Mom really can’t sleep.  It’s not from being back to school.  I’m on my feet all day dancing with the school kiddos and running around trying to get everything done around the house for the few hours a day that I am home.  My body is absolutely exhausted.  I really can’t sleep because September is an awful month for Sweet Boy health wise.  Some years it’s croup.  Some years it’s asthma.  But Sweet Boy always has a hard time in September.

As a teacher, I’m fortunate to have a good bit of sick time.  I rarely used it for the first 15 years.  I only see my students once a week.  Sometimes they get a sub for me.  Sometimes they don’t.  But my students very rarely have a quality musical experience when I’m not there.  So I always feel pressure to be at work unless it is an absolute emergency.  Not from my fellow teachers, but from the sweet faces that ask why I missed their music day.

Then came my boy.  My Sweet Boy who suffers from Asthma, Acid Reflux and complications from a cleft in his larynx.  September is a nightmare for him.  Here in Connecticut, it can be 45 degrees when you wake up in the morning and 80 when you go out to play in the afternoon.  And we get a lot of very humid days.  And the ragweed makes allergy sufferers miserable.  The rapidly changing temperatures and poor air quality are a nightmare for children with breathing problems.

It all starts with the first sniffle or sneeze.  From that point, my ears are on high alert just waiting for the worst.  I know that his coughs will be at their worst at night, so I always feel like I’m just waiting for the worst.  As soon as the first cough arrives, the nebulizer treatments begin.  The preventative treatments, for lack of a better word, SUCK!  They keep him awake way past his bedtime, but they also make him very moody.  His usual demeanor disappears and he starts arguing with everyone- family, friends, teachers.

Sometimes the preventative meds work and the cold will pass after a week like normal kids.  But it never seems to work that way in September.  Usually, the September cold turns into croup and we end up in the ER.  We’ve been pretty blessed this year that his cold has “only” turned into an asthma week.  His cough escalated to the point where he struggled to breathe and would get red in the face. Time to start the next level of meds.

This is the crazy kind of relief that only an asthma parent can really understand.  I always feel a bit relieved when it’s time to move him up to the Albuterol treatments.  Crazy right?  But I know that if that doesn’t help him in a few days, we’ll be off to the doctor to get him the high-dose steroids that will quickly knock out the cough. I also like the Drunk Squirrel version of hyper-boy much better than the Angry Bull version of hyper-boy.  But with either medicine, he struggles to sleep.  Or should I say, we struggle to sleep?

Eventually, October comes, and Sweet Boy starts to feel better.  We put the medication back in the cupboard and we both get some much-needed rest.  I try to play catch up at work and give my all to those sweet kiddos who missed their music day.   I feel like the teacher who flakes out every September, but I know I’m really the mom of a boy who needs me every September.

Photo by Andreanna Moya Photography

#11 – Baby Girl’s First Year was “The Blur”

blur

The best way I can describe Girlie’s first year is “The Blur.”  Between Sweet Boy‘s asthma and Girlie’s teething ear infections, there really was no time to be anything but a working mom.  And I really didn’t feel like I was doing either part of it well.

Girlie had an ear infection on the weekend of my 40th birthday.  My poor husband couldn’t do anything right.  He offered to take the kids to day care so I could have some quiet time, and I snapped at him because it was half an hour out of his way.  He offered to take the family to dinner and I told him I just wanted to stay home after five hours of sleep in the previous two nights.

At least I can say I was too tired to have any sort of 40ish mid-life crisis.




Mommy, Mommy, Mommy

Girlie was not easy when she wasn’t feeling well– still isn’t.  She would only sit with me or her favorite day care teacher, and even that would only bring the crying down to a barely livable volume.  If I left the room, everyone knew, including the neighbors.  She got 16 teeth in eight months with an ear infection each time.  She was really uncomfortable and really miserable for the first year.  I think Girlie was about 18 months old before my husband felt like she didn’t hate him.

Sweet Boy’s asthma was really bad that year as well.  He was on a three-tier preventative treatment program, but he still ended up at the pediatrician for steroids four times that winter.  Poor kiddo was completely bonkers all winter.  All that medicine left him completely unable to handle his emotions–something that is pretty difficult for a healthy 3-year-old.

It all became too much for me to handle.  The doctor’s appointments, the weekly trips to the pharmacy, the exhaustion, the commuting, the non-stop crying, a husband with a very time-consuming job.  I needed help, but there really wasn’t anywhere to turn.

 

 

Photo by quinn.anya