Tag Archives: sick kids

I hate sick.  

The past few days have been hard. I am fortunate that I’ve had remarkably healthy children, and so true that “sick days” really are few and far between. That might make it even worse that when we do deal with a sickness, no matter what kind or how many members of our family have it, it’s just no fun. 

Today, I’m running on very little sleep. So is Hubby. So are the kids. The boys have had hand, foot, mouth disease, and they’re exhausted, uncomfortable, and upset they missed trick or treating and are still missing school. We are all going a little stir crazy, and wishing we could at least go to the park. But we won’t- we will just wait it out until the fever is totally gone and their wounds heal a little. 

They’ve recovered quickly, thank goodness. But I know from experience that HFMD leaves its marks for weeks. They won’t feel the effects for that long, but I’ll have to explain them for a while, and assure other parents that they aren’t contagious any longer. I mean, I’m a responsible adult. I wouldn’t knowingly send my kids to school a) feeling badly or b) spreading terrible germs. 

That being said, it’s tough. We have an established routine, and now it’s been thrown off kilter. Bedtimes are skewed, naptimes are odd, meals are here and there (especially for the one who had worse sores in his mouth) and we are going stir crazy. We are ready for normal. The bigs have been asking to go to the park and the excuse of “but you’ve been sick” isn’t working that well. We’ve taken walks around the neighborhood (strapped in the stroller, of course) and played in the yard, because their energy is beginning to come back. But my little extroverts are tired of being homebound. 

So here’s to Tylenol and movie watching, and we’ll see y’all out in the real world this weekend. 

This post is part of my NaBloPoMo, where I publish a piece every day in November. Many of the posts will be writing exercises, sometimes straying from my usual style. 

A Helpless Letter to My Sick Kids


As your mama, I’ve been extremely lucky that you’re almost unfailingly healthy. In every manner of the word, you kids have been healthy, never catching colds or stomach bugs, and tirelessly playing and eating like horses. But all at once, I was faced with a situation I hadn’t encountered: not one, but both of you sick at the same time.

At the point when I realized one of you had a cold and the other had a cold plus an upset stomach, I was stumped. I mean, yes, I was concerned with your symptoms and how to treat them and what might be causing them. I was concerned with calling the doctor’s office and whether we had enough children’s Tylenol. I was concerned with the fact that Hubby had to leave to go to work and I was on my own to take care of you.

But more than anything else, I was acutely aware that I, your problem solver, day-saver, and magically-make-it-better hero couldn’t snap my fingers and fix your problem. I’m so accustomed to providing for your needs easily and quickly. Have a wet diaper? Boom! Here’s a fresh one! Hungry? Boom! Here’s a healthy snack! Fall and bump your elbow? Boom! Here’s a kiss, a snuggle and an ice pack! But this time- runny noses, coughs, fevers, one upset tummy, and what can I do? Make a phone call, administer Tylenol, and put a movie on. Oh, you aren’t feeling better yet? Well crap. What do I do now?!

There were copious amounts of snuggles, special allowances (ie: snoozing on the couch an hour before bedtime), stuffed animals and favorite blankets. Noses were wiped (and suctioned, poor little J), tears dried, temperatures taken one more time, and prayers said. I know it has to be hard when your vocabulary doesn’t allow for an explanation of how you feel or what you want/need. You’re inexplicably feeling yucky and Mama, who has always helped you out, hasn’t made you feel any better.

Well, Mama feels just as bad about that as you do, kids. Every tiny cough that didn’t wake you up woke me. Your sniffles kept me awake half the night with concern. Prayers for your fevers were said as I tossed and turned. When you guys woke up, groggy but smiling, at 6:30, I was tired but happy to see smiles under the snotty noses. Because truthfully, I love you. I’m always doing my best to make sure you feel your best and more comfortable. You’re mine and I’m yours, sick and sad or healthy and happy.