So, Max has been home sick for 11 days. According to his pediatrician, “This is a virus that has to run its course.” Let me spare the gory details. Suffice to say, I’m exhausted. We’re hoping the virus takes a sprint away from Max and leaves him alone.
One mom-friend I told about this recent bout of ick, remembered what it was like for her when her kids were little and sick for days on end. “Grueling.” Yes. It is. But, finally things are looking up. Max is getting better, just very slowly.
We’ve been through every known remedy, soup, tea and honey, cuddles, and extra TLC. Max has watched an extraordinary amount of TV (which I praise and hail as my personal savior). Mostly, Nick Jr, PBS, and the Science Channel (or sci as they call themselves now). I have perfected (and know by heart) all the dance moves and lyrics to every single Fresh Beat song. That terrifies me. I also know all the Blue’s Clue’s titles (thank you, DVR and On Demand) since the beginning of time, and can summarize each episode in interpretive dance or barking. The theme song to Olivia plays in my head incessantly. I believe that spiders talk —for real. Those Sunny Patch friends are wacky! And Little Bear (Maurice Sendak illustrated) is always heartwarming. I feel like we should be bears, head for the woods, and pick blueberries every day except for winter when we will hibernate in our cave and eat pie.
We’ve had “Train Talks” (directed dictator-esque conversations by Max where trains talk to each other on the tracks). Then there was, “Let’s Pretend” ad nauseam. Does he have to be this imaginative, creative and expressive? Really?
“Max, how about we pretend you’re Max, and you’re watching TV, and I’ll be in the corner folding laundry. I’ll pretend I’m productive and using my time effectively. Maybe after that, I’ll shower. Waddya say?”
“Oh, silly, Mommy…. OK, back to the game…now let’s pretend the train is going over the cliff, and then I move to Japan, and we have a party, and the cats are sick. So, you pretend to be Max’s mommy.”
Gee, that’s a stretch. How will I ever find my character? What’s my motivation? All I know is, mercy on me if I mess up the words or misunderstand Max’s precise instructions on how to play the game. “No, Mommy! Now you’re pretending to be Max!” Nooooooo!”
“Yeah, Max. Now it’s time to pretend you’re going to eat ice-cream, and I’m going to drink my 5th cup of coffee d’jour.”
“Yay, thanks, mommy! Can I watch TV now?”
I have helped Max build countless train layouts. Today’s, was especially tricky and is designed to crash trains off a cliff.
Max asked for pizza for lunch (hurray, his appetite is back!), and of course we had none. Not even the back up frozen kind we keep for such pizza emergencies. So, with Max teetering on the brink of a full scale meltdown, I declared, “We’re making our own pizza! Chef Max, go wash your hands, time to cook!” I pulled out some flat bread, sauce, and shredded cheese and we made pizza. 350 degrees and 5 mins in the oven later, Max announced, “This is The Fastest Made Pizza in the Universe.” And after tasting said, “This is GREAT!”
Our cat, Ringo has assumed her role as Dr. Ringo for the duration. She’s doing an outstanding job being extra furry.
I asked Max to help me title this illustration of our 11 day sick bay time together (minus the gross parts). He looked at it and said, “It’s a Feel Good Picture. And if I look at it, I’ll feel better.”
I sure hope so.
On that note, I hope you have a healthy and happy weekend.