Under the Weather

We've been home sick most of this week. It has been a long week. A sick toddler means mama has to be more patient than ever, even when she is bothered by her own sore throat, plugged up ears, and achy neck. Moms and dads don't get sick days from being parents, and so we power through.

A lot of being a parent is stepping up to the plate because there are no other batters. It is more responsibility and sacrifice than I could have imagined. When he was a newborn, I initially had a dream feeling that someone was going to come in and take over, that he couldn't possibly really be 100% our responsibility. But no one else is going to trim his nails; no one else is going to hold him down to suction the snot out of his nose with those bulbs; no one else is going to deal with that stinky diaper. And I admit to thinking to myself at times, would someone please make that baby stop crying?!

Whenever he is sick, I find myself thinking there must be someone who can magically care for him better than we can and maybe take care of me while they're at it. When we went to the doctor this week, I was weary from him not eating, not sleeping, and not being happy. I wanted the doctor to take over with confident answers about what he would eat and how long he would feel this way. But no--childhood illnesses are often all about waiting it out, and the worried waiting is another job that no one will do for us.