For love of the child

Parenthood

For love of the child

She had been fussy all evening. When she woke up from her nap, I held her as much as I could. I figured she was hungry so I served her soup veggies, some bread, and watched as she ate. In the meantime I downed some popcorn that I had prepared as a snack for her older brother. He was delightedly watching Transylvania 3 for the second time and enjoying every moment of it.

She on the other hand was miserable. After some time I took her out of her high chair and washed her little hands and face. She was distinctly unhappy.

Drinking some water, I took her upstairs for her bath. She loved the water and was well situated in her molded tub to play.

I refilled her humidifier, put her dirty diaper in the pail and then rushed downstairs to fetch her bottle of milk. In the process I served her brother a bowl of soup and threatened to turn off his precious movie if he didn’t start eating.

Rushed back upstairs just as she was getting tired of splashing.

She enjoyed an oil bath, a new diaper, and warm pajamas. On her way to bed I set her up with her milk bottle on her reclined bouncy chair in the dark and ran down to see how her brother was doing.

“I wont eat it. I don’t like it.” He told me referring to the soup. Sighing quietly to myself I served him a bowl of Sheppard pie. This he ate with no complaints.

Shrieks from upstairs summoning me.

I ran back upstairs to find she had finished her bottle and had tired of sitting. I picked her up. She burped and dropped her head on my shoulder, a clear indication of fatigue.

I tucked her in to bed. Closing the door slightly I returned to the challenge of feeding her brother his dinner. Lamb and carrots gone, he had left the potatoes.

One spoon at a time I made sure these vanished. I could tell he was getting full when he refused the strawberry compote I had prepared.

Bedtime

As usual, getting a 4 year old upstairs to bed was a task for one with a legal mind. In the end I declared that I was going upstairs and that he could wait downstairs by himself. This did the trick. He crept quietly behind me pretending that I could not see him. When I turned around he laughed and told me to stop looking.

I still had to order him to the washroom. He was already tired enough that he used the toilet by himself and willingly stepped in to the shower. He plugged the toilet while the shower ran and commenced playing with bath toys. The shower made it twice as fun.

As he played in the shower, I heard some telling coughs and sputters from the baby’s room. She was crying. I turned on the lights to find her lying in a pool of today’s lunch, dinner and then some.

Ugh. My reaction was that of both revulsion at the vomit and unfailing love for the pathetic creature covered in it. Babies are incredibly calm following what an adult considers a disaster. Probably because they feel better. Its this calm that she emanated that helped me pick her up.

I carried her to the bathroom, sat her vomit and all in her bathtub.

“Your sister threw up” I informed her brother. The helpful soul immediately started talking and singing to her from the bathtub.

Back in her room, I flipped up her sheets and rolled them into a bundle. Threw this package over the banister to the ground floor where whomever ended up doing the laundry could get to it.

I then remade her bed with new sheets, pillow, blankets.

Talking to my son, I stripped my baby girl and we coordinated to give her a 2nd bath. He got out of the tub to change into pjs while I dried and dressed her.

I put her in her bouncy chair then. She did not like this and started to wail. Sighing to myself, I took a deep breath and picked her up and carried her to the boys room. He was still naked wrapped in a towel.

“Are you going to get dressed?” I asked.

“I was waiting for you. I was scared.”

“OK"

I sat with his baby sister at the edge of the bed while he picked out the right batman underwear and captain America socks. He then started dawdling with his night shirt.

I threatened to go to put his sister to bed. That sped up his actions, but only a little. Helping him with his top he exclaimed for me to stop and proceeded to take it off so as to put it on again.

I got up and made another attempt at putting the baby to bed. She seemed happy enough to now lie down.

I then returned to put her brother to bed. He was now dressed and ready to be tucked in and so I didn’t waste any time and put him to bed. I was lucky as he went to bed without any further fuss.

On my way to the staircase I heard the coughing and gagging again. This time she had thrown up a little less. But nevertheless I had to repeat the cycle of change and wash. I did not have the benefit of an empty tub this time. This time she had thrown up milk and it was caked to the side of her head. Even after a shampoo I had to rub with a towel before I had managed to dislodge it. Cleaning her ears, she did not seem bothered but instead was happy to be in y company.

I dressed her lightly this time. I was all out of sleep sacks. Took her downstairs with me and sat on the couch to catch up on Star Trek Discovery. She was so happy to just be cuddling on the couch with a warm faux fur blanket. I could tell she was still uncomfortable as she kept tossing and turning and not quite finding her comfort spot.

The crew of the Discovery find and obtain their time crystal. Best line ever:

When the future becomes the past, the present will be unlocked. — Tenavik, Star Trek Discovery

In all of this she was still not asleep. I decided to call her grandparents who were holidaying somewhere in the countryside of Sri Lanka. Failing Grandpa, Grandma answered. She was instantly captivated by the green scenery and daytime walk and her grandparents.

I didn’t account for motion sickness.

By the end of the call, she started coughing and up came clear phlegm and fluids. I quickly ended the call and hugged her to myself.

Now we were both covered in it.

Bath routine Number 3 including myself in the tub. Amazed with myself at my creativity in how to handle a sleepy toddler while getting myself dressed as well.

Back on the couch for the final catch up episode. She rocked side to side and smiling at me passed out in my arms. I quietly carried her upstairs and laid her flat in her crib with a blanket. She was exhausted.

I was exhausted as well. I thought about the last 4 hours spent with two children and how much I enjoyed the smiles, the cheekiness, the calm. I did not enjoy the crying. But I felt exhausted. My leg throbbed where the active varicose vein showed its ugly side. My neck was stiff and I could feel a migraine coming on. I was thirsty and had not quite finished dinner with all the excitement. Given the context, who could eat? The dishes from the day remained in the sink. The laundry undone. Not for the first time I wondered about the life of single parents. I had a husband who would return home with our eldest and attack the laundry. I felt blessed.