Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Ellie's Home Sick

for the second day in a row.

She has a fever (100-101 degrees usually, not too high, fairly responsive to Motrin).   She's congested and has a wet-sounding cough.  Her chapped lips are badly cracked and bleeding.  She's miserable.  So's Daddy, since Ellie's having a hard time sleeping and he's taken the brunt of that for the past two nights.  (She tends to prefer him in the middle of the night and goes to his side of the bed, bless her heart.)  I don't know why he hasn't woken me to share the joy, perhaps because he "gets" to go off to work while I "have" to stay here with the sick child all day.  I love it, of course.  Not the middle of the night thing, but the not-too-scary illness meaning an especially cuddly child during the day.

Ellie doesn't usually nap but yesterday she did - twice.  She played happily in her room after a nap for a little while in the morning, but she didn't eat much all day.  (Fortunately our girls rarely get juice so Pedialite is a big treat when they're sick.)

By the end of the day, she felt just awful.  She didn't want to play games, read books, or even watch a video.  She didn't want me to sing to her or rub her back.  She just wanted me - and it had to be me - to lie next to her in bed and be quietly nearby while she lay still.  What a gift!  The need to put my to-do list aside and just be with my daughter for a bit.  As she grows up, these moments are fewer and further between.

Last night was another rough night and this morning dawned similarly: cuddly, "I'm too sick to eat" Ellie.  Fever.  No school.

So I fed Ada, settled Ellie with her Pedialite on the couch and took my Newsweek back to bed for a bit.

Soon, I heard loud, energetic playing all over the house.  I smiled, stretched, and turned the page to a new article.  Then I heard the oven  door opening, closing.  By the time I made it to the kitchen - not very long, I assure you! - I smelled gas.

Good feeling gone!  But not really.  Because I had to separate the girls during their resultant time out to keep from from tickling each other.  And as soon as the timer went off and they'd helped me with a quick chore, they wanted to get out of their pajamas, put on play clothes, and go downstairs to the playroom for a while.  I hear them now, opening and closing the dryer door.  This is a big no-no - they're not allowed in the laundry room and must have climbed over the gate - so I need to bring them back upstairs as a consequence.  But my right leg is completely asleep so it will be a minute before I can move.

I think Ellie will be back at school tomorrow.


RobMonroe said...

Oh no - on several accounts. Glad that she's well enough to be mischievous, sorry that it's resulting in said chaos.

I'm trying to figure out how to set up intentional one-on-one time with Abby. Maybe daddy/daughter Valentines dinner out with nice clothes? I dunno. Maybe you and Paul could each take one to get ice cream one day, then swap children the next and go get cupcakes? Just an idea. :o)

Sarahlynn said...

ROB!!! The only worse thing you could have said is That D Word, you know, the one you posted pictures of on your blog earlier this month.

We're dieting!!! ;-)

But one of the ways we do get nice quality time with the kids is through exercise. (Personally, I'd prefer pasta or chips and salsa, but my health doesn't, so . . .) Ada likes walks. Ellie likes the pool and still takes Busy Bodies gymnastics.

Next weekend we're each taking a girl one-on-one to The City Museum and meeting up at lunch to exchange. :-)

RobMonroe said...

Very cool.

I thought that occasional snacks are the key to a good diet. Maybe my problem is that I only snack, and that's not a good diet... exercise bike arrives today!

Sarahlynn said...

Woo hoo! Enjoy the bike.

After a month or two on a diet we do start allowing ourselves the occasional treat. (Mostly, our desserts are low fat, no-sugar-added yogurt, pudding, or fudgecicles. And even then, no more than one per day, max.)

The difficulty is in letting a little of the sweet, high-fat stuff back in without going back to our old, bad habits.

As I always say, I don't crave a doughnut. I crave a dozen.