Little Noses Big Problems

Sneeze, cough, sneeze, cough. I have had my first dose of cold and sinus medicine in quite a long while. My oldest started pre-school two weeks ago. It only took two full classes before the coughing and runny noses to spread like the Plague. Even the little guy is coughing his poor baby head off. I like to refer to him as half the seven dwarves because at least he is a happy, chubby, sneezy, coughy little guy. But because my throat feels like I swallowed steel wool and am only breathing through one nostril “nap while the kids are napping” is a forgone conclusion. Trust me. I am not taking for granted the fact that one nostril is working. Having two notstrils out of service is no fun either. But it does quite suck that this one working nostil makes my eyes burn and water thus leading my brain to believe I must need to sneeze but, of course, cannot. Instead, I stare up into the light hoping it will come forth only to curl my best Elvis lip and curse when the damn sneeze fizzles out. So why not sqeeze a blog in while I have some quiet time? I will save tonight for the ever wonderful “night time” medicine to work its magic. All the parental duties will be relinquished to my husband whenever he decides to come home. Blame him I cannot for working part of third shift then continuing to work the rest of the regular shift. I would not want to be around the likes of his family when they are sick either, more accurately…me! It is the first time, surprisingly, that I have had the responsibility of taking care of a small child and baby while acting like one myself. Colds are few and far between. When I catch one I am a total snot and I know it. Pun intended. Miserable is an accurate word to describe the experience.  So, I have warmed a mug of tea with lots of honey, planted myself in front of the computer ready to spill my guts, as some of my readers have said. My readers. Has such a nice ring to it! Maybe one day I will actually get paid to say my readers. But I do not mind spilling my guts for free. If anything, and I have said it before, I am happy to relay the ups and downs of parenthood with fellow parents, family members, friends whether they have children or not. Sometimes it is suprising what people will admit to. It is relieving on my behalf. Some will admonish while others will gush. For me I am at the point in my parenting that I do not put too much stock in critism. It usually comes from those who have either A. never had children themselves, or B. has never stayed home or, C. feels proud of themself at being the best God damned parent there ever was on Earth. Here is a eyebrow raiser if ever there was one. Yesterday I had my 8 month old son strapped into the cart when an “older” woman stopped to ask if he could fall out because I was “quite a few feet” away from him.  Wow. And the good samaritan award goes to… All day I thought about that woman and her “good deed.” So maybe I put a little stock into critism, but I knew he was in there good and tight. It still erked me that she “asked” me if he was going to fall out. Let us be honest. It was a statement not an inquiry. I would like to chalk it up to her age but I did just turn thirty. Ha!  It bothers me that a complete stranger thought I would not take enough care making sure my very active baby son was properly strapped in AND continue to walk away from him. Classic Casey Anthony Syndrome. Just call me Dr. Kim. It’s not like she was judging my rearing skills. That woman flat out doubted I had a very active and curious baby strapped into a moving cart. What is the world coming to?

So anyway, back on track. Katie, my oldest, has reported to me on numerous occasion at the onset of ”The Cold” that I am grumpy or not nice. At this I feel guilty. But honestly, talk of toots and poopy is not funny especially when I am sick. What is it with three year olds bantering back and forth about excrement and other bodily noises? Talk of fecal matter and gas gets really old really fast. The innocence of it all. One day she will sink in shame at even the thought of tooting or pooping and pretend she is The Holy Mary, poop and farts immaculately escape her. The healthy me just ushers a side ways glance and rolls her eyes, but the sick me sighs exasperatedly, askes to please talk about something more meaningful. For instance, what her day was like at school to which she replies, “I don’t remember.” We just pulled out of the school parking lot. “You must remember something, Katie.” This is when she implies I am grumpy or not nice, with a gruff cough, and swipe of her nose with the back of her hand. “Use a tissue, PLEASE!” should be monogrammed on all my t-shirts. It rolls off my tongue so easily these days. ”I’m in my carseat. How can I use a tissue, mom?” How do you argue with that? Here is another thing that is seemingly more irritating when I am sick. My husband’s constant need to make all things sexual especially when a sexual conotation can so easily be inserted into any conversation is irritating and blindingly so when I do not feel well. For instance, “I’m going to make a run to the store. I need more honey for my tea. Do you need anything while I’m out?” To which my ever romantic and caring husband replies, “Did you check the tea bags? Do you have enough? Would you like some more,” he askes waggling his eyebrows. Seriously? New material is needed on his part, for pity’s sake. For MY sake! There was also me innocently relaying to him that the juices have started to flow again pertaining to my blog. “Juices” and “flowing” are two dangerous words to use in the same sentence when in the presence of my husband. It was “dripping” with sexual conotation. In his defense I should have inserted “writing” or ”blogging” before “juices.” Again ,”The Cold” has taken me off my  proverbial ‘A’ game.

 Now that I have been popping vitamins it is another forgone conclusion as I should have been popping all the while, say before “The Cold.”  Funny how that works. A classic mistake for a parent with a brand new preschooler carting home the germs. Maybe the fact that my sinus canal is so chalk full of muck I can temporarily claim insanity. Which is what I think my husband tips his hat to considering I have been contimplating going back to work. Soon enough my youngest will be bouncing off to school. I will be left banging around the house looking for dirt to clean, or clothing to wash, or bathtubs to scour.  A career cannot be fathomed, as in “not in the cards.” Staying home definitely has its upside. It is scary to think about returning to what I call “work force reality,” and at the same time; glorious.  Mostly, I have noticed even more how self sufficient Katie at three years old has become, so much closer to not needing me for everything. While I am over the moon proud of my baby girl, I am also quite melancholy. My little girl is growing up, some how morphed into this staunch individual. On her first day of school I went back three times, a kiss for each year of her life, to make sure she was comfortable, not overwhelmed by the little boy next to her crying for his mommy. I realized I was the last parent in the classroom. Katie did not even turn to watch me leave. She walked right in, handed me her book bag, found her name on the chart, checked in at her seat, all eyes on Frank the classroom guini pig, promptly forgot all about her mommy, and even Howie. Howie has a new spot in her bookbag hidden inside her cubbie. Completely dumb founding, I know! Some how Howie got the backseat, the shaft, when it came to school.  The last thing I remeber leaving her classroom was a big smile on her face. My pointed sick induced grumpiness has not completely undone her. She is smart to want to go to school to get away from the sick me! She may be sick even more so than me but maintains a cheerful demeanor excited to be off to school, meeting other children, learning new songs, reading new books, exploring this whole new world for all that it has to offer. It is amazing and terrifying all at the same time. Sometimes I stare at the Halloween decorations we made together and tear up. Patheticly rediculous but it is the truth. Blame cannot be laid on “The Cold” this time.  The career clock is ticking away but I am stuck wanting both worlds. So in leiu of working I have decided to focus on other interests such as this blog and orchestrating a book club. Hopefully it will fit the bill. It is a far cry from holding down a job or more precisely, a career.

This is the moment when I reflect on what I have written, sort of tie everything together. This part of my blog is so important, at least to me. Time to search for the good, remind myself how lucky, how fortunate I am to have my children and husband, how crazy my life really is! “The Cold” has the ability to take a lot out of me but not the mother, never the mother. No matter what I will always be here for my children come hell or high water. I like to think my children will hear my voice in their heads if ever I was not around to tell them personally. I like to think that who I am means something to them.  Every day I wake up bright and very early to two wonderfully happy, sweet children excited to start the day off with me, even if I am considerably less then cheery sometimes i.e. “The Cold.” Motherhood with all its glory and ”poopy” talk fills a part of me that no other “career” can touch. I am a thankful and fullfilled woman because of my children! Everything else will come in time. Having a little faith can make all the difference. It has so far!