Saturday, February 26, 2011

On the Mend

For those of you who don't already know this, it turned out that The Princess had bronchitis.  One doctor visit and three doses of antibiotics, and she was on her way to getting better. 

All in all, she missed five days of school (there was no school on Monday or Tuesday because of Presidents' Day and parent-teacher conferences).  I've felt so bad for her this whole time she's been sick, because she just hasn't been herself.  Sleeping late into the mornings, getting up for short amounts of time to eat and terrorize The Hubbs, and going directly back to bed has pretty much been her schedule for the last week and a half.  Gradually, the coughing has begun to subside, and we've seen glimmers of the little gal we all know and love...but they've been few and far between.

Today, she's nearly 100% back to her normal self, which is to say she is a whirling dervish with endless demands.  When I came in from school at lunch time, she was tearing around the living room in nothing but a Pull-Up, looking like the cat who just swallowed the canary.  The moment I opened the gate into the kitchen, she barged through and plopped herself on her chair by the door, already shoving her feet into her boots.  This girl was ready to go.  The only problem?  As she stood there in her little pink Pull-Up and purple boots, I had to find a way to explain to her that she should probably wear some clothing, seeing as how it's winter and all.  The big disappointment?  The fact that it never even crossed my mind to snap a picture of her wearing her self-engineered outfit.

I'm glad to say that The Hubbs and I are also starting to feel better.  Naturally, we both caught what she had, but it fortunately hasn't turned into bronchitis for either of us.  The beginning of this work week was dismal, with all three of us shuffling through our days without fully being able to comprehend much of anything that was going on around us.  Let me tell you: fifteen-hour days (between work and school) are no fun when you're battling a nasty cold/virus/whatever the heck this thing is.  And we all know how tough it is to take care of a sick kid even when you're well, but add the haze of this bug on top of that, and The Hubbs was put in a pretty tough spot for a while there.

Yesterday, I believe, was the first time The Hubbs and I noticed that all three of us seemed constantly famished.  We were all eating everything in sight and always looking for more.  While this isn't always a good thing when it comes to budgeting for groceries, I take it to be a good sign: we're all on the mend.

Friday, February 18, 2011

Patheticute

The Princess, being the extremely accommodating little gal that she is, decided at the ripe old age of eighteen months that naps were for sissies.  That's right: no naps for almost two and a half years now.  There's been the occasional Chris Farley dead-fall from complete exhaustion, but the only consistent thing about her naps is their absence.

Given this fact, The Hubbs and I became concerned when The Princess came home from school on Wednesday, had her snack, and headed straight to bed.  For five hours.  Dead to the world, like those naps of old. 

She stumbled out of her room around the time I got home from work, dragging Dirt Pink behind her and frowning that pathetic little frown...the one that is so pathetic, it's almost cute.  She stood in the middle of the living room, looking at nothing in particular, and began to whine.

When I got down on my knees and held out my arms, she catapulted herself into my lap, where she stayed for an uncharacteristically long time.  I kissed her forehead as she leaned on me, and, sure enough, she was running a fever.

This poor kid has been in bed nearly perpetually for the last forty-eight-plus hours.  When she's not in bed, she's extremely volatile; the slightest thing can send her into hysterics.  She's a snot faucet with a nasty cough, and the crazy bed-head only serves to make her more pathetic.

She seems to be doing slightly better this evening, given the fact that she is up and moving around, and has been for more than five minutes at a time.  She's eating like a pig, but coughing like an eighty-year-old man with emphysema.

I've set up a doctor's appointment for Monday morning in case she hasn't kicked this thing by then, but in the mean time, here we are.  We've got the most pathetic little girl who also manages to be the cutest thing on two legs.  Hence: patheticute.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Deliberate

The Hubbs happened to be in the midst of one of "those" days earlier this week. You know, those days when the universe seems to be endlessly entertained by making everything go just wrong enough that you begin to feel hopeless? Yeah, one of those.

You know as well as I how hard it is to pull yourself out of these funks...it can be nearly impossible sometimes. This is why we need help from time to time, don't you think?

And sometimes that help comes from where you'd least expect it to.

On this particular day, a sweet little Princess was especially observant. She noticed something wasn't right with her daddy, and she decided to do something about it. Climbing in his lap with the world's biggest smile on her face, she looked him square in the eye and said the one thing that could make it all better.

Da.

It's happened once or twice before, but this time it was deliberate. How do I know? The Hubbs told me that she grinned from ear to ear right before and after she said it. She thought about her daddy and what might make him feel better, and she climbed into his lap, made eye contact, and said his name. Nothing else; just that one miraculous, deliberate syllable accompanied by a grin.

Sometimes the little things can just be so big.