Thursday, December 13, 2007

Sergeant Sicky Spills Everything

Matthew’s been sick the last few days, hacking and wheezing like a two-pack-a-day octogenarian. On Tuesday, I hopped him up on Dimatap for most of the day, so I think he spent it in a stupor on the couch, dozing off a couple of times during the morning. How I knew he was especially sick is that he didn’t even want to get off the couch; he just snuggled under the blankets with a pillow under his head and his stuff-animal flavor of the day, Natalie’s medium-sized Ariel (yes, she has three sizes). He was quite content to sit out the day’s activities while he recuperated.

Yesterday was some of the same, but not as much. He lounged around some, but then was back to his same old self. However, last night… after only taking an hour-and-a-half nap… he wouldn’t go to sleep. Not one bit. At 10:30, I went upstairs to do a little work and he was still lying in his bed, wide-eyed and chatty. So, I guessed that this morning was going to be nice and easy for me, as I figured he would wake up mid morning and I would be able to slowly creep into the day, just like I like. I told Natalie she didn’t have to get out of bed if she didn’t want to (there was nowhere to go except for Sam’s Club), and she readily agreed to sleeping in. In fact, I knew she would probably make it into our bed sometime in the early morning hours, and once there, she’ll bury herself in our blankets on Mommy’s pillow and I assumed (assumed right) that I wouldn’t see her until after 9am.

Well, wouldn’t you know it, but Matthew was up right at his usual time, so much so that I checked under his bed for the alarm clock. Then, it was a wild ride for Matthew, as he bounced off the walls all morning and well into early afternoon. It was as if he drank a Red Bull mixed in a double espresso, just plain bonkers. In a matter of minutes—just me looking away for a short while—all of the toys had magically dumped themselves out and onto the floor as he pinballed from one thing to the next.

Normally, I’m happy to allow the kids an hour or so to watch a couple of favorite shows in the morning, which is just long enough for the caffeine in my morning Diet Coke (my cup of Joe) to make its way around my circulatory system and brighten me up. Without it, I’m dead in the water. Instead of sitting there happily munching toast and sipping from his apple juice while watching the delightful adventures of “The Backyardigans” or the wacky antics of “Blue’s Clues.” Instead, it was see how high I can jump on the couch, with the occasional jump on Daddy when he least expects it. Then, for added measure, he ran laps around the house, dizzily wailing gleeful huzzahs.

For the past few nights, we’ve filled with water and ran the humidifier in Matthew’s room to help break up the cough at night (which had been keeping him awake), and during the day, I pushed the nightstand and the humidifier out of the middle of the floor so nobody would trip on it…or stub their toes its legs! Well, I was in the office checking email while the kids ransacked the bonus room and terrorized the dog with the rolling cart that carries a set of blocks. The next thing I hear is a giant clunk and a glug-glug-glug sound coming from across the hall, and it was one of those sounds that was instantly recognizable: Matthew had pulled over the nightstand, and the mostly full humidifier upside-down and emptying itself in the middle of Matthew’s. When I bounded across the hall in only a couple of steps, Matthew was standing over the dark puddle slowly widening on the carpet, saying with a giggle, “I’m plugging in the Christmas lights.” In his hand was the plug to the humidifier and he had pulled it off of the nightstand trying to make the cord reach to the far side of the room.

After that fiasco was sopped up, I figured the best thing for the kids is to get out of the house. We all got dressed, piled into the truck and headed toward Sam’s Club and then to the Party Store to order balloons for Matthew’s birthday on Saturday. On the way home, I got the kids some chicken nuggets from Wendy’s because it’s easy and I was starting to fizzle out from the morning’s running around.

Once home, I set them up with their lunch on the kitchen table. The kids’ meals from Wendy’s come with a half-pint of milk in a cylinder-shaped plastic container and a straw. Against my better judgment, I decided to let Matthew drink his milk through the straw out of the plastic container instead of transferring it into a sippy cup, something he is a little more adept at handling. I figured he’s going to be two in a couple of days so maybe it was time for him to move up. After all, he’s got opposable thumbs, who knew he would just them for evil.

I went back out to the truck to unload the hoards of loot we got from Sam’s Club, and no sooner had I picked up the first load of stuff did I hear Natalie yelling for me to “come quick! Matthew’s crazy!” By the time I returned to the kitchen, Matthew had not only dumped out the entire container of milk into a small plate full of ketchup but he had plopped into the mix all four of his nuggets (each one with a bite taken out of it) and was slapping the jumble with the palm of his hand, giggling as it splashed all over the table. So, for lunch, Matthew got to eat milk-soaked chicken nuggets, and he didn’t complain at all, actually enjoyed them I think.


Meanwhile, all I wanted was to eat my hamburgers and fries, sit there in peace and enjoy the first meal I had since the 10 slices of toast I at the night before (I’m not feeling too well either, neither is Kara).

Finally, the magic hour of 1pm came around and I was happy that it was time for him to go down for a nap. It took him an hour to go to sleep.

And here I thought that he’d sleep for a long time, but again, I am surprised. It’s a little more than two hours later, and I hear him banging around upstairs again.

Is this the end of naps for the little one?

There goes my afternoons.

1 comment:

Ryan or Kara said...

I don't believe you! He looks like such an angel sleeping in the photo.


web site tracking
Sierra Trading Post