Apparently whatever gods we pissed off feel that we have been punished enough; the plagues seem to be coming to an end, or at least pausing to let us catch our breath before the next round of germs follows us home from kindergarten and knocks us all on our asses again. Mooch suffered a nasty stomach bug that kept her out of commission for the past 10 days as a grand finale, but now even that is just about over. Goober has a couple more days of antibiotics to take, Adam's ears have cleared up and my sore throat has faded to a manageable level of scratchiness.
Being sick sucks, and having sick kids sucks worse. The sleeplessness, the whinyness, the irritability, the clingyness, and the simple suckyness of seeing your children miserable and uncomfortable. Seeing my baby tap her little fingertips together and whimper "ouch...ouch" while looking up at me with her lip quivering and her big blue eyes full of tears is definitely harder than wrestling 3 people to the ground to decant medicines into every one of their various head holes (7 holes each for Goober and Mooch and 4 for Adam) especially when her only response to my repeated "Where, baby? Where is the ouchie?" is to cry with frustration because her mother is such an idiot.
But I've gotta say... the snuggling has been great!
Yes, OK, selfish I know. But when they're healthy they are such crazy bundles of energy that physical affection is a matter of a quick hug or a kiss on the head, snatched blindly as they zoom by. They do like to be picked up and they even initiate snuggles on the couch quite frequently, but they rarely last more than 30 seconds (seconds full of squirming and frequent elbow jabs to the boob I might add) before they are off and running again.
On the sickest days I managed to orchestrate family nap time, when I would put Mooch down for her nap and then cuddle up with Goober in my bed for a few stories before falling asleep together for an hour or two. She was happy to get some one on one time and I was happy to get a little extra shut-eye. When she crawls into our bed at night she twitches and squirms and neither one of us sleeps, but for some reason in the afternoon I get to watch her become completely still and quiet before I drift off to sleep myself.
Mooch has not fallen asleep in my arms since she was about 3 months old. My kids just aren't Those Kids, you know? The ones you see sleeping against their daddy's shoulder at the mall or the park. Nor do they sleep in strollers, slings or even car seats unless driven to extremes of exhaustion. They basically sleep in their beds, crazy idea, I know.
So now I have to admit I have really been enjoying the sleepy snuggliness Mooch has been bestowing upon me for the past week and a half. Her warm body relaxing comfortably on my lap, not wiggling or bouncing, just nuzzling her soft, fuzzy head into my neck and occasionally reaching up to run her fingers through my hair or gently tap my face and explain 'nose, eye, ear... etc.' has been like having a newborn again, all sleepy and boneless against my chest, only much heavier.
Since she has been insisting I hold her every waking minute, nothing has gotten done around here all week. It became a fabulous excuse for me: Do dishes? You mean get up and disturb the poor sick baby? Christ, why not just throw her fevered little body out into the snow, you heartless jerk?! Besides, I'm sooo comfy.
I'm happy to see her laughing and playing again now, of course I am, but I will miss the marathon cuddles. I have suddenly realized that she has already grown so much and come so far from the helpless sleeping lump on my shoulder she was a year ago. For a week she was my little baby again, but now she's back to the fast paced toddler life.