But, and it’s a small but, sometimes, after days and days of nagging them and time out’ing them and seriously stop touching each other in the eye‘ing them…it’s nice to be snuggled and loved on and needed in a capacity that doesn’t involve wiping them or making them a sandwich.
I mean, sure they’re a sweaty mess of snot, but one on one time with a child who appreciates you is priceless.
You know, for about twenty minute increments between the Tylenol kicking in, their fever breaking, and you peeling them off you to find a sweat outline of their diseased little bodies. Only between bursts of medicine-induced wellness do you get your snuggle bug back, but overall, it’s a day of mayhem between naps and noodle soup.
Then night falls. Okay, I’ve changed my mind, this sucks.
Noses gets stuffier, coughs get croupier, rashes get suspicious-ier…ahem. Everything gets weird. Oh, and the doctor’s office is closed. Thankfully, WebMD is, like, always open, so at least you’ll be able to spend a good 6-12 hours misdiagnosing and freaking the hell out.
When I had my first child, six year ago, sleepless sick nights were often spent on the couch, eyes glazed over watching infomercials and farm reports.
No more. Now my bloodshot eyes are comforted by every episode of Sophia the First, Doc McStufins, and the super tolerable relaunched Looney Toons until the sick little baby finally falls asleep, and I can spend the remainder of my night frantically monitoring their breathing while I catch up on Bob’s Burgers, New Girl, Glee, Whitney and Happy Endings. It’s the new Friends, I swear!