Sick Toddler: The End of the World

For the most part, NorthernBaby has been a joy to parent. He's been a wonderful little boy with a great personality that showed up as soon as he was born. He's cute, has an infectious smile that he can use to make anyone bend to his will (he learned that one from NorthernDaddy!), and doesn't normally complain about anything. He's pretty much everything that a parent would wish for in a son. There have been some occasions where NB/T has made his parents wish that they could return him...(we asked the hospital if they took returns, and they said that all goods purchased from the maternity ward were final sales/as-is/no returns. Darn.) There were a few crying episodes in the first few months that had us fleeing the apartment and seeking shelter from the baby in the hallway . There have been some trips around town in the car that made us wish we'd gotten a puppy instead. So, despite what you read on NorthernBaby, things aren't always puppies and rainbows. We deal with all the normal things that parents are dealt when they take on this venture.

The thing that we're learning now is that a sick child feels like the end of the world. Levi has been ill before. He's even gone into surgery to place tubes in his ears. Nothing has been bad enough to make us worry a ton, and NorthernBaby's approach has been to roll with the punches. (We even managed to have fun and laugh as we dressed up in hospital gowns and rode a gurney into the operating room!) Things have changed recently (at least for NorthernDaddy - and he's the one writing, so...). Last weekend, NB/T was diagnosed with croup. We've heard about the virus and treatment from other parents who've dealt with it, and we've done some reading about it, so we didn't think much of it when NB/T caught croup. We can deal with this. Or not. Holding our little boy as he gasped for breath was a horrible ordeal. Listening to his raspy, ragged breathing as he tried to sleep made tears come to our eyes. Dear Lord, heal his broken body. Helpless as parents to make him better with our hearts breaking as his eyes plead with us to fix it - make it okay. That's our job; all that he's known: we're his Mommy and Daddy, and we make everything better. Except this. We are powerless - none of the treatments are effective, and all that we have left is to wait for the virus to run its course. Which takes days. Several days, with very long nights. Croup begins to fade away.....and on its way out, calls in its friend, "double-ear-infection". Crap. More sick days from work for NorthernMommy, doctor visits, and medicine. Thank God there's medication to treat ear infections. One dose of the magical pink goo is all that is needed before the inflammation recedes and NB/T sleeps through the night. He's back to his cheery self the next day and everyone's back on their normal schedules. Until playgroup. I wasn't there, but as NorthernMommy tells it, our little hero hurled. Sprayed the contents of his tummy across our friend's living room like he was a little Mount St.Helens. Ugh. No fever, no indication of why he hurled, but two repeat performances for us at home. The doctor is consulted, and the advice is to keep him hydrated and wait it out. (Note to docs: parents of a sick child do not want to 'wait it out'. We want powerful medicines that cure the problem immediately with absolutely no side effects or risk. Don't tell us to wait it out - we will stomp on your big toe!) Now it's NorthernDaddy's turn to take sick days from work and attempt to keep liquids in NB/T. Normally, I can't remember times and amounts and that kind of thing - but when it's all about taking care of my child, I can remember exactly how much Pedialyte he swallowed and how long he's held it down. To the tenth of a second!

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Here's where the magic of computer publishing takes effect: I wrote the words above several days ago...and saved the draft. Now, NB/T is much healthier and the mood in the house is lighter. (Much lighter due to NorthernMommy being on vacation and lots of snow falling today!) So, sick toddlers are indeed the end of the world. Until they recover and start goofing around like their normal selves. Then the world starts turning again.

Since NorthernDaddy is happier now, we'll turn to some photos of Levi helping 'fix' his bed. No longer is he a baby sleeping in a crib. No sir! - He will tell you that he is now in a 'big boy bed'. Here you can see him helping Daddy remove some bolts from the frame (too bad that the bolt he's taking out didn't need to be removed...!)

NB/T isn't aware of it yet (and don't any of you tell him!), but he technically is not in a 'big boy bed'. He's in a convertible bed - halfway between a crib and a real bed. See below.

The gap between the rails lets him climb in and out of his bed "all by himself", which is very important to him. The change to this bed setup has taken some getting used to - for the whole household.
The first night he slept in this bed, we neglected to think about closing his bedroom door. We put NB/T to bed and were sitting in the living room when a ghost-silent figure padded around the corner and shouted, "Hi!" with a huge grin on his face. (I almost forgot to mention that he had removed his pajamas and was standing there nekkid!) Startled us just a bit. It took several nights of putting him to bed and then peeping through the slightly open door to catch him as he slipped out of bed....I have to admit that I had quite a lot of fun watching for his little foot to touch the floor and then kicking the door in and shouting for him to "get his little butt back in bed". Then (the best part) watching him jump out of his skin and hustle back into his bed as fast as he could!
A few weeks into the new bed arrangement, everyone was fast asleep when, just after midnight, a huge "THUD" was heard through the baby monitor. It only took a split-second to realize that little man had fallen out of his bed. NorthernParents sprinted down the stairs to NB/T's room to see how he was. (Really - we sprinted down the stairs. Just weren't awake enough to remember the locking child gate at the bottom of the stairs. That hurt/slowed us down for a second!) NorthernBaby was sprawled on his floor, saying, "I fall..." and pointing at his head. After we made sure he was okay, we laughed at him for falling out of bed.


Below, you can see Levi spreading dirt all over my kitchen floor. I blame Mommy. http://haphazardlysustainable.blogspot.com/