Thursday, July 9, 2009

What Sick Looks Like...

As everyone knows by now, Shawn left last Friday for Honduras... Roatan, specifically. We've been asked by about half the world's population if Roatan is safe and YES it is. It's an island on the eastern most edge of the country, more Southern Caribbean and less Central America. I did get a text message from him stating that he arrived OK and then another about swimming with sharks. Oh my!

I asked him not to call me, as it would just be a distraction to his trip as well as my "mojo" with Ian. I would much rather just know that he's there OK and discuss the details when he gets home.

As for our week, Ian had a rough day at school on Tuesday and I had to pick him up early. Because they took his temp (a measly 100.6) at 3:30pm, he couldn't come to school the next day. He has to be fever free for at least 24 hours, which cancelled out the entire next day. Great. It meant there was no option but to take a sick day...something Shawn and I draw straws for, typically. Fortunately, since Ian is rarely ever sick and has had only 2 or 3 fevers in the past year, we almost never have to think about it. Just my luck that it happens while I'm a solo parent!

So, yesterday was a sick day. I've included a few pics of what sick looks like on Ian. We went for a walk yesterday morning to get some fresh air and ended up at the library before it opened. There were tons of mommies and their kids outside and we learned that there is a toddler storytime on Wednesdays at 9:30. Awesome! Finally, a "stay at home mom" event! I could pretend to be "one of them". It was boring. Ian was the oldest in the group by far and there were lots of snuggling and tickling activities that caught me by surprise. Gladly, it was only 30 minutes and we continued into the library to check out some books. I was interested in what the librarian mentioned as the "summer reading program" for preschoolers... but when I picked up the flyer, found that the sessions are all during work hours. Of course. Not only can we not participate in ANY mom/me activities in our neighborhood (there are at least 5 playgroups a day and lots of adventure activities), now we can't even participate in something as simple as the library.

I almost typed a really bad word just then.

After the library, we got drinks at Starbucks and then headed home for lunch, books, and naptime. Not once did I hear a whine or whimper. He was so much fun. After lunch, we headed out to find a new park in our neighborhood and located a really nice one about 1 mile away. Too far to walk, but definitely worth the drive.

So, it was a sick day, but a great sick day. We didn't go on a hike or on a grand adventure, but it was one really great ordinary day at home with my favorite person in the whole world.

I won't go into today's details too much. In a nutshell, I let him sleep in and I'm glad I did. He was tired, but feeling much better. I decided to send him to school since it was "movie and popcorn" day, but got a call shortly after 2 letting me know he had been crying for 2 hours that he needed his mommy. Uggh! Just hours before, he was excited about a movie and going to Red Robin for my birthday dinner.

We dried the tears and went home. We watched more Backyardigans than is healthy for a 3 year old, and in the midst of all the joy, Ian jumped in a certain spot on the couch that catapulted him forward into the window sill. I heard the thud of his forehead before I saw it, and the silence that followed told me everything. It was probably really bad. The silence was quickly followed by a scream like I've never heard. I had flashes of my own head cracking incidents as a child and I practically had my coat and shoes on ready for the ER. I grabbed him calmly and hugged him tight, then went for the bathroom before really looking at it. Luckily, it was a dent, but not bleeding too badly. I think his glasses slowed him down so it wasn't so bad. I was able to get a bandaid on it despite his crying, and within 30 minutes, he was trying to "surf" a dump truck across the yard. I'm doomed.

I think the moral of this very long story is that although I would like to think I can do it all alone and MY WAY, I really do need and appreciate Shawn's help. I especially appreciate his help when I'm trying to control Polli and Ian at the same time or juggle a "I have to go potty!" moment with the melting ice cream left in the car in order to get the the bathroom in time.

What has really stuck with me the most is that I wish I had just one day to do all those things we did yesterday. Maybe some day I can make that work; it was so priceless, even just this one time. For those who get that kind of opportunity every day, please don't take it for granted. I really didn't want that day to end, even if it was accompanied by a continuous request to "cover your mouth, please".
Pics from our sick day:

Good medicine: Cocoa and cookies!

Playing with the scrapbook store owner's GIANT black lab. He is the biggest sweetie...maybe even more friendly than Polli (and he weighs 140 pounds!)!

Scrapbooking followed by the most expensive smoothie I've every purchased. Ian's "kiddie" smoothie and a small for me was $11. SHUT UP!
The crabby pouty boy I picked up from school today.

Not long after. It's amazing what a snack and some TV time can do!

...and then the fun came to a screeching halt! A nice black goose egg formed, but doesn't appear to be growing and the bleeding stopped fast.


  1. Ouch!!!! Poor guy. At least he has Fridays at home with Trish, and then the weekend to heal before school on Monday. We don't want "child abuse" to enter the teachers mind. Just kidding.

  2. no that's a doozy! poor guy!

  3. Ouchie! I hate head wounds :(

    And I hear ya on the library thing. I am a SAHM mom, so it doesn't affect me but I get the frustration that you feel over the injustice of it. I feel similarly about the big switch most churches have made from daytime vacation bible schools to almost exclusively night time vbs. Night time is DADDY's time with the kids, so we had to choose to opt out. Again. I get ya.