There’s nothing that brings the act of parenting into sharp relief more than when a child is sick. Suddenly the amount of energy required simply to maintain the status quo and to keep things flowing is so much more than before. Needs are magnified, as are fears. The senses remain on high alert until the crisis abates.
Nathaniel came home sick Friday when the children came over from their dad’s house. He mentioned a sore throat, which didn’t seem to be a major issue, but stated his preference for quiet play rather than, say, a trip to IKEA. As in every time they come back from being away for more than a night or so, there was a transition period. We’re getting better at these, but they still require a certain amount of attention and intention to navigate. I can’t imagine what it must be like for a child to be constantly moving from one parent’s house to the other, each with huge variances in feel, rules, expectations, and mundane things like food. Still, they say that kids are resilient, and it comforts me to believe that.
By Friday night, Nathaniel had developed a fever. I sent him, tired, off to bed with a hug, hoping he’d be better by morning.
He wasn’t. Didn’t want breakfast, which is a dead giveaway. By Saturday afternoon he had developed a bright red rash over most of his body. Fortunately I don’t freak out too much over illness, and I felt it was some sort of viral eruption. It happens. The sore throat was no longer an issue. It’d look an awful lot like scarlet fever if the throat was more of an issue.
By late Saturday the fever had caused strange fears: he was afraid he’d be contagious to everyone else (too late for that, I’m sure); he thought he’d have brain damage as a result of the fever. My natural dry and ironic humor doesn’t help in these cases and I’m afraid I may have caused him some undue worry. Oops. But everything was magnified. I so hope I don’t get this.
Being the primary food consumer in the house, when Nathaniel doesn’t want to eat it’s noticeable. It’s been rather nice not cooking much, but he worries about his not wanting to eat. I figured he was better yesterday when for hours he asked repeatedly if we had any bacon, or failing that, sausage. Or ham. What is it when you crave nitrites? Can’t I just administer those directly? Sorry, we’re fresh out of smoked meats. I gave him some miso soup instead.
I haven’t slept more than a few hours for days now. Saturday night we were up barfing. Well, Nathaniel did all the work while I stood by being supportive. No one’s been out of the house since Friday. We’ve watched a Cirque du Soleil video, some Tour de France coverage, and they’re working their way through several hours of “Little Bear” now.
Today his fever is down and he’s all itchy, so I figure he’s on the mend. Meanwhile, Serena has a sore throat so I guess we’re about to start Round 2.
Welcome to parenting.
July 19th, 2007 at 10:53 pm
you wrote:
I can’t imagine what it must be like for a child to be constantly moving from one parent’s house to the other, each with huge variances in feel, rules, expectations, and mundane things like food. Still, they say that kids are resilient, and it comforts me to believe that.
cynzim responds:
it’s hard. i grew up doing it – when it was rare. as an adult i have found myself helping divorced friends better understand their child’s experience (and myself better understanding my parents’).
it helped me become incredibly adaptable. all rules and traditions were clearly “relative.” on top of two houses, i had two stepparents. all four parents were “good” people. they were also all “different” with different issues, different patterns, and different traditions. i laerned from all of them and resonated more with some, less with others.
(the death of one of my parents brought in a new person… not exactly a parent… but a new person to get to know and adapt to.)
more than people who grow up in “one house,” i truly “get” that there is no one “right” way to do anything. also – i think, haven’t thougth this one thru – i got taht i was truly separate from my parents in a different and earlier way than my friends did.
all these things both helped and hampered me in my own development as they continue to do now… just as everyone’s childhood does.
at 19, i was sitting in the easy chair of our student apartment when i suddenly realized that i was THERE and i would be there tomorrow and the next day and the next day and i would not have to pack a bag till i wanted to. i had a “home.”
it felt good.
i still love to travel and do it much better than most people.
i both dread and handle change better than many people.
does all of thsi have to do with growing up the child of early divorce?
not necessarily.
but i’m sure some of it does.
i am glad you are sensitive to your kids’ need for transition.
that and your lvoe is what will stay with them always and that is what deeply mattes.
with love,
cynzim