Sick kids. We've had 'em. I was recently home for a long four-day weekend to nurture the house of sleeve-coughers. There were a variety of ailments that evolved into another grab bag of illnesses. Fortunately, no H1N1 -- but just about everything else.
Let's see, there's been a mysterious rash, the croup, the crud, sniffles, fevers, bronchitis, headaches, general malaise, random expectorating, a sore throat, some big molars breaking through, then throw in a nasty ear infection for good measure.
I feel awful that they feel lousy, but I still feel a kind of guilty pleasure when they are sick. They slow down. They sleep in a little longer. They snuggle more.
Vivian wanted to be held a LOT. Fine by me! It's been a long time since she'd let me. It's so sad when the kids stop falling asleep on you. They get all long and mobile and just want to go, go, go!
One night as I was putting her to bed, she stopped me.
"Rock, rock." She pointed to the rocking chair, wanting to be rocked to sleep. I gladly complied.
"Song," she said, pointing to the music box.
"What? You want me to sing to you?"
"Yes," she said, definitively.
I pressed my palm against her forehead. "Oh, honey, you really must be sick."
KAY KRHIN
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