As the show comes to a close I hear footsteps on the stairs. I freeze. The footsteps get closer. Now they are on the tiled hallway floor.
I turn my head and see you stumbling toward me, the big stainless steel mixing bowl clutched to your chest.
"Mom, I feel like I'm gonna throw up." you wearily say to me.
"Okay, Tommy. Come with me, sweetie." I say as I set down my vices and devices.
I put my hand to your steamy forehead as we make our way to the bathroom. We sit in front of the toilet for a few minutes until I suggest you come and lie down on the couch for a little bit. You sip water as I text the latest development to my bestest friend and say goodnight. I turn on some cartoons and run my fingers over your forehead into your hair, watching.
After a while I give you some ibuprofen and a bit more water.
More watching and calming and tender rubs on the back.
I'm tired. I didn't plan on staying up this late. Especially coming off of such a sleep deprived weekend. But here we are. And I'm watching you.
You toss and turn on the couch, no longer watching the cartoons you normally love.
"Let me know when you feel like you want to be in your bed again, honey." I say to you, the child who loathes sleep.
You nod your head an let out a moan.
I check your forehead for the twentieth time and can tell your temperature is coming down already. Soon afterwards you tell me you want to go back to bed.
I help you off the couch, grab the big stainless steel mixing bowl, and head up the stairs after you. I tuck you in bed, show you where I am putting the bowl, and give you Lambie.
You are exhausted and brave. I lean down to kiss your hot cheek. This is what makes me a mama.
"Good night, Tommy. God bless you, I love you. Hope you feel better, angel." I whisper to you.
"Night mom. Love you too. Sweet dreams." you answer back.
I close your door as quietly as I can, turn, and walk down the dark hallway and back downstairs. I make the coffee so it is ready when daddy gets up in the morning, I make sure each door is locked. I blow out the candles, turn off the tv, and fold all the blankets. I pick up all the shoes, the pillows, and the books. I turn off the lights and make my way back upstairs to my bed.
Slowly and quietly I creep into the room, peel back the covers, and slip in gently so I don't wake him.
And I wait.
Those moments of caring to a sick child are so tender. I still remember my own childhood moments vividly. I would lay in a feverish curl under an afghan on the couch. Mom would bring 7Up in a Daffy Duck glass, which made a wet circle on the metal TV tray. I watched M*A*S*H or Electric Company, and waited for Mom to bring a cool rag for my forehead. And now I do those same things for my girls, minus M*A*S*H and Daffy Duck.
Yep this is what love is all about...and a child does not have to be the one that is sick.
How did we ever clutch onto these moments before we blogged?? Beautiful!
I bet we were watching the same mindless show if it was Monday night :). So tough to see them sick but so comforting to know that we can take care of them.
True. So true.. Love those moments. My girls arent sick often but when they are its precious time to take care of them.. Hope he feels better soon..
Lovely. Perfect capture of motherhood. Hope he's feeling better.
Ah, the effort we put into tending our sick kids! Esp. in the night.
Oh goodness, poor little guy. It's so hard to see them that way, but you handled it so well, and sweetly, even though your plans had to change... :)
ugh, I've been there and I think I might be there again tonight with my 7 year old. But you captured it perfectly. Just perfectly. I hope he's feeling better by now...
I had to pick my son up early from school on Wed. because he wasn't feeling good. He spent the rest of the day on the couch resting and watching "Max and Ruby." It's hard to rest in this house with 2-year-old twin girls running around too:) It is such a special role to be able to comfort them. I hope Tommy felt better in the morning, and that you caught a few zzzz's!
This will be a great thing to read when he is bigger and doesn't want to be cuddled when not feeling well. Motherhood is so fulfulling (albeit tiring) isn't it?? :-)
yep, it's what makes you mom, for sure. and that last line...also what makes you mom...because you know.
This made me all teary eyed...
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