Scribbling Dame

Preposterous Pondering.

I secretly like when my kid is sick. October 26, 2011

Filed under: Mommy Issues — Scribbling Dame @ 3:46 pm
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Well, I guess it’s not so secret now.

I should define a couple of things; sick= a cold, there is no pleasure in illnesses that are more serious, or involve bodily fluids other than boogers and phlegm. Second, I don’t find pleasure in my child’s actual suffering.

That being said, when my kid is sick is the best of times!

Sofia knows how to work the system, and I don't mind being played.

I get to spend time being a mommy to my oh-so-independent muffin. She wants to snuggle, she is needy, and I don’t have to make her follow the usual protocols of good parenting; like eating lunch before popsicles, brushing her teeth or getting dressed, or limiting T.V.

She loves me extra because she gets to do all the things I would normally not let her do, because I don’t want her to grow up and be a lazy/dumb/spineless/unkempt/unhealthy drain on society. I love her extra because she will snuggle me all day and fall asleep in my arms like a newborn, plus she listens to me because I am not actually asking her to do anything.

Added bonus–it is totally acceptable for me to take a sick day for this. There is no stigma for me to take a day off when a sick kid is involved, so no guilt!

And I have to say, at just (almost) four years old, Sofia is mastering the art of being sick and pampered. She repeatedly reminds us that her throat is sore and she has a fever (complete with her own hand on her forehead). She will perk up if we let her eat an English Muffin with Nutella, but is “too exhausted” to brush her teeth at bedtime. She is not hungry when it’s time for dinner, but can, in the same breath “have room for a popsicle.” It’s entertaining, and let’s face it, we’re both working the system of sick-time awesomeness.


Survival of the Cutest January 23, 2010

Filed under: Mommy Issues — Scribbling Dame @ 11:54 am
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Sofia was sick this week. All of you moms know that when you say your kid is sick, you are really saying, “my life is hell.” Having a sick kid is synonymous with no sleep, patience tried, hurricane house, and awful feelings of helplessness.

I am a lucky woman because usually my husband gets up with the baby if she wakes in the middle of the night, which is actually rare. This is our agreement because 1)I carried her for nine months, delivered her and then breastfed her so he owes me big and 2)he can go back to sleep in less than one minute, wheras I take a good hour to fall back asleep.

But, I have Wednesdays off of work, so when she woke at ungodly o’clock on Tuesday night (Wednesday morning?) I got up with her. She wanted to go downstairs. She wanted apple juice. I knew that if I went downstairs with her we’d never go to sleep, so I opted for the guest bed instead. She was not happy.

Not only did she not let me lay down but she would not allow me to lean on the headboard. I had to sit up, holding her 30 pounds of sorrow and somehow get her to stop crying without getting out of bed. Forty-five minutes later the crying stopped, and she would allow me to lay down while she sat next to me, whispering things. Patience is not my strong suit and neither is lack of sleep (somewhat challenging traits as a mother frankly). Needless to say, if she understood what $100 was, she would have had it just to be quiet and sit still.

Just when I think that it’s either going to be her or me, she puts her hands on the sides of my face, looks me in the eyes and whispers, “I wuv ew Mommy.” Then she gives me the sweetest cuddle hug.

This  and giant eyes are how babies secure their place in the world. Purity and sweetness always prevails. I am so glad for it.


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