I’ve been sick all week, and thankfully I’m beginning to see the light at the end of the head cold tunnel. Unfortunately, my son is just now showing signs of feeling unwell, which suggests we’ve got a long way to go before we can skip merrily out of the house and declare ourselves recovered. I hate when Collin is sick, I hate it worse than when I’m sick. So far, the worst symptoms he has are what can only be described as Pain-in-the-ass-itis. Basically, he doesn’t want to be put down, but he doesn’t want to be picked up and removed from his toys. But he doesn’t really want to play with his toys, he mostly wants to sit around on the floor and whiiiiine. Oh, the whining. It is enough to make me a crabby, whining person, myself. His whine is something he does with his whole body: sitting rigidly and staring at you with a huge frown on his face and this drawn-out half-cry that DOESN’T STOP.
I think the biggest cause of the whine is the fact that he will not nap. I guess feeling sick is reason to stay awake until you are reduced to a heap of blubbering baby. The past two days, I’ve had to bundle him up in boots and a snow suit (Maybe a little over-kill, but it’s cold and we're sick over here, m’kay?) and walk him in the sling until he passes out from sheer exhaustion. Then we get home, and I pass out from sheer exhaustion, and the next thing you know, you’re hearing Collin whiiiiiiiiine all over again. Now, being as my nose has been doing its own rendition of a human leaky faucet, leaving me chained to a tissue box all week, you would assume I would remember to bring tissues when I take Collin out for a walk. No. I've forgotten both times, and kicked myself the whole walk as I became a mucus fountain. But back to the nap business, I feel like setting up a tent outside our apartment and charging people to look at him. “Step right up, ladies and gentlemen, and witness with your own very eyes…The NAPLESS WONDER!”