Monday, November 20, 2006

Like Having My Heart Pulled Out Through My Nipples

On Saturday, the Little Man wasn't any better. His so called "cold" had brought his temperature up to more than 102 degrees and so it was time to see the on-call Saturday doctor. An hour after arriving in the waiting room filled with sick kids, we find out that my munchkin has pneumonia combined with a mild ear infection.

When I heard the word with the silent "p," my heart briefly stopped. People die from pneumonia! I know that much! But apparently it's not that serious in young kids, just old farts. So a prescription for antibiotics later, we went on a mission to make him all better.

And today, he is better. After a rough weekend where we did nothing but take care of a very angry toddler, I've learned that the silent "p" stands for pissy.

I've also learned that if you make your husband stay home with a toddler who coughs in your face because he hasn't learned to use his hand as a shield, your husband will develop ebola. Most of us would just consider it a mild cold, but to a man, it's the equivalent of ebola is what I figure, from the amount of moaning and complaining I've had to listen to. Around 9:30 p.m. last night, smothering Sweetie Pie with a pillow seemed like a good way to give us both relief. I'm kidding, of course. Well I don't know if I am. I'm pretty sleep deprived.

And so this morning, because Little Man was better, I brought him back to daycare. The place he hates most in the world. The place where he sits in the corner for most of the day, staring at the other children like he's thinking he's not one of them, that any second now, his Maman will rescue him and he doesn't want to be seen talking with these parentless children.

And every day, my heart breaks a little more at leaving him there, where I wonder if I'm strong enough to do this. It's funny, I really thought the first day would be the hardest, but in some ways, it was the easiest. Neither Little man nor I knew what we were in for, so it wasn't that bad.

But each day has gotten harder and harder and today and sat in my car and sobbed for five minutes, unable to put on my makeup, knowing that I'd end up smearing too bad if I tried before I was done.

I'm watching the little man on the Internet camera right now and he's just laying down on a cushion on the floor, still unwilling to participate with all of the other kids. Seeing him almost makes it harder and a big ball of grief is stuck in my throat. I wish it would get easier...

Love,

Catwoman.

3 comments:

random_mommy said...

awww, he loves you soooo much...just more proof of what a fantastic mommy you are!
don't worry, babies hate change. once he adjusts, life will be normal again.

susan said...

If it makes you feel better, we left Katie with her god-daddy for 6 hours, and she didn't even notice we were gone. The worst part is she didn't seem all that excited when we came back! She just acted like - oh, hey it's you guys. Heart-breaking! So, love that your baby loves you, and know he'll get into the swing of things and make tons of toddler friends soon!

jempress said...

oh catwoman, i was crying right along with you as i read your post. the thing to remember is that you are a wonderful mommy whom your little man adores. no matter if you're right next to him or a few buildings away, he will always know and be secure in his mommy's love. i will keep you and your little man in my prayers.