Sick Little Boy

Posted on Sep 23, 2008

My son has been sick quite a bit recently (he just started daycare) and this past time it was awful. I put him in bed for the night and within 15 minutes he was awake, upset and crying, calling for "Mama" and "Baba" at the top of his lungs. Going to his room I expected him to want a book or his blanket repositioned, which is the norm for him. Generally Leith is an excellent sleeper, but when he is sick all bets are off.

He was sitting up, sniffling and obviously quite congested. I picked him up to try to calm him a bit and immediately he was pointing at his bed, indicating that he wanted to be returned to it. I settled him, tucking him in – placing blankets where requested and certain animals in the bed as per usual – only to be summoned by his plaintive cries a scant 15 minutes later. This time I gathered him up in his lion blanket and trucked him off to my bed. S. was downstairs studying and I figured a few hours sleep beside me was better than 15 minute naps. At least if he woke up in my bed I could settle him quicker and easier and get him back to sleep again.

This arrangement worked for a few hours – until he woke up, more congested and even more miserable than he’d been before. Because I had to be at work super-early for a meeting S. and I agreed that he would try to settle Leith himself. Both Leith and I managed to sleep then – until about 4am. Then the coughing began. He sounded like an ailing seal and my sleep-deprived brain managed to summon one brief word: CROUP. A terribly scary word to the mother of a toddler, and one I personally abhor. I woke myself up a little more, ventured down the hall to his room and listened again. I could hear that his breathing wasn�t laboured and that he was going to be okay without any medical interventions, at least for the time-being.

At that point, S. ended up taking Leith downstairs so that I could sleep for one more hour. Both of them ended up going back to bed just as I was getting up to take a shower. I managed somehow to get dressed in the near-dark, tip-toeing around the house so as not to wake either of my sleeping, snoring boys.

All morning I continued to think about Leith and it took all of my will-power to attempt to concentrate on what was going on around me. Of course by the time I arrived home he was oblivious to his congested state, happily munching on a banana, watching Chicken Little, snuggled in on the sofa with his dad. That night I made him a huge bowl of home made tomato soup – that along grilled cheese is the perfect childhood cold remedy.

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