You know that sick thing I've had going on for, oh, a month or so? Otherwise known as "The phlegm that would not die", "The phlegm that ate my cat", or the critically acclaimed "Arthur 2: Phlegm on the rocks"? It's finally starting to clear up. Hurrah. The sick is still very much there but there seems to be light at the end of the tunnel. Or that could be the sun reflecting off a phlegm ball. I can't be sure.
But it seems to be going away and I'm finally getting better. Better. Do you know what happens when things start to take a turn for the better here at Chateau de Chicky?
Dah dah duuuummm.
But wasn't it nice of Jabba the Cat to keep Chicky company while she's suffering through coughing, sneezing, fever, stuffy head, and post nasal shitty attitude? Nina, The Wonder Lump, was entirely covered in snotty tissues after this picture was taken. Poor cat, she takes entirely too much abuse and keeps coming back for more. That's either love or mental illness. I knew I should have taken her to the vet when she started walking into walls.
And what fun it is to keep a sick whirling dervish (read: crazy ass toddler) quiet because it's FOR HER OWN FREAKING GOOD. I'm not even bothering with cough suppressants, instead I'm going with the only thing that works. Elmo. Lots of Elmo. I'm losing IQ points but Chicky is thrilled.
Ooh, the Hokey Pokey! Good times, good times.
Elmo loves you.
Great, but can he make me a gin and tonic?
Chicky wouldn't sleep last night. I don't know about you, but when I'm sick all I want to do is sleep. Gots to help the bod heal and all that, but toddlers apparently don't abide by these same principles. Every time she coughed it woke her and freaked her out so eventually, at about midnight after 15 minutes of screaming, hitting and "Mommymommymommymommy Nononononono!! Mommymommymommyyyyyyyyy!" (and that doesn't include the hour I spent with her in her bedroom letting her doze on my chest) Mr. C brought Chicky to bed with us. Now that was fun. I hope we can do that again real soon.
For anyone who has "slept" with a toddler in the same bed you know that I use that term loosely. One does not "sleep" when a toddler, especially a sick one, is in bed with you. One gets absolutely no "sleep" thus forcing them to be extremely "tired" the next day and over use "finger quotes".
Shit. The Elmo DVD just ended.
Elmo Elmo Elmo ELMOELMOELMO!!! More Elmo! More more more Elmo! Elmo Elmo Elmo Elmo ELMOELMOELMO!!!
(Translation: I'd like to watch some more of that little furry, red monster, you stupid wench.)
The only thing that made her happy last night was after Mr. C had brought her to our bed. I had finally convinced her to put her head down on the pillow and she let her hand wander along the bed and under the covers. She touched my shoulder and then down to my belly button.
Usually it's the cutest thing when I take off Chicky's shirt and she yells "I nekkid!" But is it funny at 12:30 in the morning when your toddler discovers that you sleep in the buff?
Why, yes. Yes it is.
Spontaneous fits of laughter after midnight do not help your toddler into ol' Slumberland, however, and she was wide awake after that. Chicky was shuttled up to her own room sometime after 1am, when I was finally sick of having my nose beeped and my nipples pinched (I can get that any other night of the week, when Mr. C is feeling frisky), where she slept until just before 7am. That was when she woke up crying softly into her blanket, heralding the beginning of a bright, shiny day.
Any suggestions for what to do with a sick toddler? Because I did a Google search and I found it's frowned upon to chuck one into a dumpster when you're tired of the whining.