Our weather has been rainy and cold for the past two weeks. Gianna has been sick for the past three weeks. Bode got sick somewhere in that three week period but recovered after a couple of days. Three weeks of Gianna being sick has gotten old, very old. The pediatrician told me that there is nothing to do. Gianna is a baby and her little system can not work out this cold as quickly as other people can. This week, Bode got sick again. I am surrounded by snot, coughing and the hoarse cries for milk, love, and comfort.
It seems I have the swivel hips of Rosie from The Jetsons, but not the unemotional efficiency of taking care of a household. I wipe Gianna's nose, then Bode's nose, Gianna's nose, then Bode's nose. Every morning I change dirty sheets. My garbage can holds more used tissues than the typical garbage. My hands are dry and wrinkled from the fifty million applications of soap, water and antibacterial gel. Someone coughs and I wince, irritated at the sound and the idea of more germs floating around.
After being gone a week, Bob came home from his business trip on Sunday night. I was so looking forward to him being at home, and just taking a little bit of the children's attention off of me. Monday morning he announced that he was feeling "off." Tuesday, he stayed in bed until 10:15 a.m. and then spent the rest of the day at home, blowing his nose, sneezing and coughing. If Bob stays home in bed, I know that things are very, very bad. If things are this bad for him, how bad must Gianna and Bode feel? It made me frustrated again. My poor babies have probably felt terrible for so long and can not tell me what is bothering them.
This morning the sky turned grey and the air turned cold again. The forecast is for more rain through the week. I sat and fed the babies breakfast, grimacing as I wiped snotty noses again. Dirty tissues piled up by the breakfast dishes as I tried to get Bode to eat something. And then Bode dropped a smushed piece of banana on the floor. A piece of smushed banana that reminded me of the one thing that I had been cleaning up for three solid weeks.
"I AM GOING CRAZY!" I screamed. I went to the closet and pulled out shoes and jackets. "Bode, do you want to go bye-bye?" I asked, internally begging him, Please just say YES. "Okay bye-bye" he agreed. Thankfully, I did not have to wrestle him to get the shoes and jacket on him. Maybe he is going a little stir-crazy, too.
I ran out to the car and put my purse and the Baby Bjorn in the front seat before getting the children. The front door was open and Bode was waiting by the doorway. I ran inside to get Gianna and on my way to the door, met a perplexed looking Bob. "Are you okay?" he asked. Before I could answer, Bode answered for me:
"Mommy is crazy, Daddy."
Indeed. So we left Daddy in the house and went out for a bagel. I wanted to send a broadcast message to our little town: BEWARE! Sick Children and Crazy Mommy Approacheth! But mercifully, neither Bode nor Gianna had a snotty nose while we ate. And both seemed in good spirits while we were out. When we came home after an hour, I was still feeling stir-crazy. But the weather threatens rain and it's windy in the hills. Too much weather for two sick babies to be outside. I put Bode down for his nap early. I took Gianna back to the bedroom to nap. She was not sleepy so we sat in bed and played. I had her facing me in my lap. Her new trick is to pull my eyeglasses off my face. This annoys me. "No, Gianna, no no." I put my glasses back on. She smiled and pulled them off again. "NO, Gianna. NO." I put them back on. I weighed how much she would cry if I just put her in the crib and walked away, and whether it would keep Bode up, too. I decided that I was 'stuck' sitting with Gianna. She pulled off my glasses. I sighed. She smiled again. And then it hit me: get out of your head and have fun with your baby. She's playing a game with you. So this time I smiled and said, "no, Gianna..." and laughed as she pulled off my glasses. She laughed too, and everything was alright.
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