Thankfully, February is a short month.
Peanut came home with “the bug” on January 31st. I only know this because it was the Monday before his and the hubby’s shuttle attempt three trip. It started as the sniffles. Then the cough. Then Thursday, he had his first full-blown double ear infection. I’ve never seen this kid look so sad. Broke my heart.
Friday, I started with the sniffles. By Monday, full-blown sinus infection. Tuesday, antibiotic #1. Then antibiotic #2. I spent two weeks sick, sick, sick. Really, really sick. Wanting to spend two weeks with the covers over my head sick. Three boxes of tissues in five days sick.
Not my proudest parenting month. And I think it nearly broke me. Now that I’m physically strong again, finally, I’m working on that mental recovery.
It’s difficult when you are your toughest critic. I tend to point the finger at my self first and often. Even though I was sick, I still felt guilty for popping in yet another video for Peanut just to catch a 10 minute cat nap on the sofa while Pumpkin nursed. And now, Pumpkin’s going through a period of lots of night waking. The little baby that spent his first two months sleeping through the night, is now suddenly up three or more times a night and not always for obvious reasons. Do I assume it’s a growth spurt? Teeth? A phase? Nope. I assume that I must be doing something wrong. Must be my fault. The truth of the matter, I know, is somewhere in the middle.
After this month, though, it’s hard to see that.
So, as we trudge into March, I say so long February. So long to the germs, so long to the “not now” parenting that filled our days as I just tried to get to bedtime, so long to the chaos that resulted.
And although it will be harder to say so long to the critical thinking and finger pointing (you know old dogs, new tricks and all that), I’ll try. My boys deserve at least that much. And frankly, so do I.