Flushed little cheeks…

October 24, 2006

One of the hardest parts of parenting, for me, is not having the answers.  I don’t mean not being able to answer my kid’s questions.  I mean not having the answers that I pose to myself.  After picking up my son at pre-school, he asked me to help get him in his car-seat.  This was a clue…Mr. Independent needs help into his car-seat?  Mr. I-do-it-my-own-self needs help? Uh oh.  Something’s up.  Sure enough, lifting him into his seat, he feel unnaturally warm.  The boy’s got a fever. 

I did the usual things, offered some juice, called the docs to make sure a round of recent inoculations weren’t the culprit, called the hubby to let him know.  Oh, I tried to give some Tylenol, but this particular child is hyper-suspicious of medication so it was a no-go.  So after all the starter tasks were completed, I’m left sitting on the couch, looking at my limp little boy, wondering “Now what?” and “What do I do now?” and then a couple minutes later, “Ummm, what should I do?”

As much as my sons’ energy can tax me, it’s the downtime caused by fever, the sniffles, an aching knee that really throws me for a loop.  You can shout “calm down! everyone take a breather!” when the kids are wound up, but I don’t think it’s quite okay to yell “come on!  be okay! be yourself!” to a sick kid in the converse universe.  Can I get some middle-ground?

Truth is, it’s hard to see your child feeling under the weather.  My son’s flushed little cheeks aren’t caused today by a brisk run (or two) through the house yelling, “Thomas! I’m Thomas the Train!”  Today, its a 102.5 temp that’s got those cheeks so rosy.  Boy, I’d love to hear a “choo choooooo!” right about now.

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