I’m not gonna lie, kiddo; it’s been a rough few weeks.
Your dad went to a 5-day conference in Las Vegas, leaving you and Natalie and me alone together for the first time ever. Your sister brought home a very nasty virus and infected the entire family. And I’ve just been feeling not quite myself.
You’ve been a bright spot in all this, mainly for two reasons:
- Everything being completely topsy-turvey has barely made a ripple in your sleep schedule.
- You didn’t get sick.
KNOCK ON WOOD KNOCK ON WOOD KNOCK ON WOOD.
You’ve been a tad congested, sure, but that’s nothing compared to the barking cough and constantly-running nose that’s kept your sister out of daycare for a whole week.
I know that you getting sick is inevitable but I’d reeeeaaaaaally like to postpone it, well, as long as possible.
Here’s the thing. I haaaaaaaaaate when babies are sick. Not that that’s unique to me, obviously, since all parents would prefer their kids be healthy. But baby sickness is in a league of its own compared to toddler sickness.
When Natalie’s feeling under the weather, it’s no picnic. But she still functions pretty well, and she even becomes downright cuddly at times. I want her well again, but there’s something sweet about how she slows down enough to want to sit in my lap, becomes tired enough to lean against me while we sit on the couch and watch an entire season of Daniel Tiger in one go.
But babies with a bad cold? So, so sad. Nothing sweet or cuddly about it. It’s just an endless cycle of saline drops up the nose, Nosefrida-ing, and sitting in the bathroom with a hot shower running (incidentally that’s a lot like how I spent the past week, with the notable exception of being capable of blowing my own nose).
So, please stay healthy. The rest of us have fallen like plague-infected dominoes but you’ve kept on truckin’. Since I got it worse than anyone, I’m hoping you’ve received a healthy dose of antibodies through nursing. My loss is your gain, I guess?
Not that I had any choice in the matter, but if I did have a choice, I’d shoulder any illness myself rather than have you or Natalie get sick. I wouldn’t even need a moment to consider it.
But I don’t have a choice, and sadly, these coughs and runny noses, fevers and broken bones, and, since you’re my daughter, headaches and painful period cramps (sorry about that) are a part of life.
Know that I’ll always do what I can to make it better, everything from spending sleepless nights holding you upright to ease your congestion to procuring a bottle of pamprin and a heating pad.
Just remember all of that when it’s time to choose my nursing home, ok?