Wednesday of Few Words - Croup

A visit from the Croup Monster is never fun. It's descended on our house again, bringing with it pals like Barking Cough, Snot Face, and my personal favourite, Febrile Seizure. Good times.

And a febrile seizure, even when you've seen them before, is a terrifying thing. Fortunately it was all over in about a minute, and The Imp (picture above taken about half an hour later, after my hands stopped shaking) went back to sleep almost immediately and remembers nothing today. I can't wait until he outgrows them. He's had three of them, and they freak me the fuck out every. single. time.

Things That Are True - Friday Confession

The Imp has been sick since Monday. Sleepless nights with a croupy toddler make me so very cranky. Last night, The Imp was awake, coughing, at 1:48 am. He stayed awake, clinging to me, needing a drink of water, his favourite stuffed toy, to sleep in Mommy and Daddy's bed, to sleep in his own bed with Mommy, to sleep anywhere as long as it was on Mommy. I held him, and I rocked him, and I stroked his hair, his back, his tired, coughing, wheezing little body. Because as parents, that's what we do, right?

It's 8:30 pm, and I just put him to bed for the night. Except for the brief times he was strapped into his car seat today, he has been in my arms, on my lap, or clinging to one leg or the other, for eighteen solid hours. Even when HWSNBN came home just before bedtime, The Imp still clung to me, crying, "Mommy, Mommy!" when Daddy tried to read him a bedtime story.

The last time The Imp was feeling clingy, in a hotel room in Victoria

Don't get me wrong. I love The Imp more than anything. I want to be there for him when he's feeling sick, especially when he's feeling sick. I want him to feel safe, and loved, and to know that I'll do anything in my power to help him feel all better.

But a full day of the constant contact, after a full week of the clinging, sleepless nights, and I'm just done. It's too much of a muchness. I've experienced as much touching as I can handle; I've reached sensory overload. My flesh actually crawled when he wanted to cuddle with me at bedtime. I just needed to have my body belong to me for a little while. But I sucked it up, and held his hand, and sang him to sleep.

Because as parents, that's what we do, right?

Cue the Mommy guilt.

Have you ever just had enough with the touching, or am I the only person who's actually that awful?

Wordless Wednesday - Happiness is...

Happiness is a lazy Sunday morning cuddle with my boys.

This post is linked to A Lot of Loves' Wednesday of Few Words.

Things That Are Surprising

If this is patently obvious to you, it only shows that I am not very clever, not that I have that opinion of you! But if you are anything like me, you will find the following to be a surprise:

After you've given birth and no longer have a watermelon under the skin of your abdomen, you still can't sleep on your stomach.

I've always been a tummy sleeper, and I had a really hard time sleeping on my side for the last few months of my pregnancy. I basically didn't sleep for more than an hour or two at a time from about the five month mark. I would lie awake, remembering what it was like to roll over on my tummy and get some sleep. I was sooo looking forward to returning to my favourite sleeping position as soon as the baby was born. I would fantasize about how I would place my pillow, where my arms would be. I like to hook my toes over the bottom of the bed, and I would imagine what that would feel like when I finally got to do it again. By the time I was due, it felt like freedom would soon be mine.

And then I had a c-section.

No sleeping on the tummy with the pain of the incision as it healed. But I was looking forward to the worst of it being over and finally being able to sleep as I wanted.

And then the milk came in.

No sleeping on the Boobs That Ate New York. Not possible. My breasts, which had already swollen from a B cup to a D cup during my pregnancy, ballooned up to a DD+. Even if it hadn't hurt like hell to put pressure on them (never mind the leakage that occurred when I tried), the difference in altitude from head to toe would have made sleep highly unlikely.

Sigh. As much as I love breastfeeding, and will miss it when The Boy's weaned, I am dying to sleep on my tummy.