Jack is sick today. Again? Still? It's hard to say. I've been up several times through the night listening to him cough, and feeding him ibuprofen and warm drinks (See Now That's Crisp, for a home cough remedy that is palatable to kids).
One of the toughest things, if not the toughest thing, about being a parent is having a sick kid. We've been very lucky - Jack is a reasonably healthy boy - but every now and then we get a little scared. Last night was one of those nights. Jack was having trouble breathing and was choking on phlegm. (That's just one of the many parenting skills that is acquired with the birth of a child: The ability to toss around words like phlegm and poo without flinching.)
Once again my child amazed me. His dad and I were having mini panic attacks as he struggled to breathe. A few pats on the back and sips of hot liquid helped to relieve him a bit. Dad asked if Jack would like some nose drops and Jack said "No thank-you, da-hack-hack. No thank-you, daddy." Struggling to breathe, but the boy has time for manners. The heart skips a few beats in worry, and then melts into a tingly pile of love-sick goo. That may just describe parenthood in a nutshell!
Jack is better this morning, thank goodness, at least in the sense that he can breathe more easily. He's in his room, not sleeping as I had hoped, but humming a lovely tune and chatting with his toys. (If you haven't already read it, check out You're not a duck!. I have the priveledge of witnessing some pretty funny early morning discussions between Jack and his toys.) I really am amazed at how happy that kid is, no matter what else is going on. He's such an inspiration to me every day.
And now, since it's almost time for Jack to get up and I have had no sleep, I think I'll set up the TV room for breakfast and a morning of cozy movie-watching laziness. I hope you are well, and wish you a happy Friday. TGIF!