Oh, friends, there is nothing more pathetic than a sick baby, and it’s not what anyone wants, but there we are. Jamie and I have colds. For me, it’s just annoying and makes me sound like I have had a two-pack-a-day addiction for the past 30 years, but for Jamie, it’s pathetic.
He’s snorfley, and sad. His cute baby voice (which is much sweeter than some other babies I’ve heard – seriously cute) is hoarse, and he isn’t sleeping very well. It’s just a head cold, and he’s probably already on the mend, but it breaks my heart to see him ill.
Still, though, he is a mellow child. He even allows me to suction his nose without protest. You guys. This is huge. Charles would act like it was the end of the world and his whole head would explode all over me if I went for him with even a kleenex, let alone the bulb suction. Jamie just lies quietly and lets me do my thing, then smiles when he can all of a sudden breathe better. Hmm, something tells me this kid has a better grasp on cause and effect than Charles does.
So maybe Jamie will be my clean kid, but I’m not totally counting on that, because, well, he’s a boy. And if there’s one thing I have learned about boys, it’s that they are dirty. Charles gets a bath every night, which might seem excessive for a small person, but oh, you don’t want that little boy in clean sheets without bathing. Head to toe, he is covered in sweat, sunscreen, bug spray, and several layers of dirt every single day. And bruises! And scrapes! Goodness, gracious, this kid just beats himself up running into things, sliding on things, falling off of things. His legs look like he’s been in a street fight where the weapons were pieces of chain link fence.
So yeah, a sick baby and a kid so scraped up and dirty (especially his face because his nose runs and, well, see previous comments about his abhorrence of kleenex) that he looks like a motherless urchin, and we fair draw the eyes of passersby when we are out. Perhaps I should have more mom guilt over this, but I am really more focused on getting in, getting out, and oh, yeah, is that a Thomas the Tank Engine sticker on my butt? Baby barf on my shoulder and in my hair? Peanut butter and jelly smeared on my pants?
It’s a good thing we don’t go anywhere fancier than Costco.
We had a fantastic weekend with Liz here to visit. I’ve been trying to think of a nice recap of our great weekend, but we really didn’t do anything spectacular. I guess it was just the company that was spectacular, and I feel so blessed to have friends with whom we can pick up right where we left off, with whom we can stay home and do essentially nothing noteworthy and still have a good time. So thanks, Liz, for making my weekend awesome by just being here. I’m totally looking forward to next April/May when we jump on an airplane and visit her in Phoenix.