I don’t normally post on Sundays because I’m generally do church things and I wouldn’t really trade that for anything, but today I’ve got two kids with some sort of allergy to some sort of something that has taken to the air in St. Louis over the last few days.
They each have matching symptoms: runny, watery eyes, clear runny noses, sneezes and barky coughs.
But the reactions. Oh such a difference in my doodles’ personalities!
When the mackerdoodle wakes up coughing during the night, it is a full Shakespearean tragedy. Every cough is followed by wailing normally associated with middle-eastern funerals, or banshees. She says, “Nononononono! I don’t like it. I don’t like it.” then coughs again and begins the cycle over.
When the cheesedoodle wakes up coughing he sits straight up in the bed, and coughs with enthusiasm and gusto, flailing his limbs and shaking his head. Then he lies down again and goes back to sleep.
Sleep itself is a martial art to my son, which is unfortunate because when he’s feeling sick he wants to sleep wrapped around me with his head on my chin or cheek, or neck. When he’s sick, I wake up feeling like a victim of police brutality.
The mackerdoodle, on the other hand, doesn’t want to be touched when she’s sick. I don’t know when this happened, but if I ask if she wants to snuggle she says, “NOnonononono! I don’t like it. I don’t like it.”
And the noses.
You may already know that I have a bit of an aversion to things coming out of noses, so the last day has been a challenge for me. When the mackerdoodle sneezes significantly (and I think you know what I mean by that) or just has a runny moment, she says, “MAMA! My NOSE! It’s YUCKY!” and I say, “Go get some toilet paper and bring it to me.” We look after things and deposit the used paper in the closest trash.
In the same circumstance, the cheesedoodle trots purposefully to the nearest roll of toilet paper. He pulls off roughly 2 feet of paper and proceeds to smear his entire face enthusiastically, then takes the soggy paper, deposits it in the toilet and flushes as many times as he can get away with it before I can get myself from wherever I am to the bathroom. I then take a damp cloth and clean up the carnage on his face, much to his disgust and another round of martial arts.
So that’s what my day is looking like. Even sick days are an adventure when you’re the mama of the doodles.