My youngest is sick with strep….again. Three times in this house in January alone. I’m so done with January. I’m so done with sickness. However, there are some positives. I get to spend quite a bit of quality time with my youngest.
Six is a great age. It is pure and raw. When he is happy, no denying it. When he is sad, no denying it. When he’s sick, we’re on a bit of a roller coaster ride with wanting hugs and to cuddle one minute but wanting to get up and play the next. That’s pretty much how things have been these last few days waiting on the antibiotic to kick in. So I’ve tried to build my days’ experiences around these moments and circumstances.
While leaving the pediatrician’s office, my little guy appeared far from sick. He was actually skipping out the door, across the parking lot, and to the car. I always make him hold my hand when crossing a parking lot and this day was no exception. However, he asked me to skip with him. So I did. There we were skipping to the car holding hands with big smiles plastered across our faces. I don’t care how old you are. If you skip holding the hand of an adorable six year old, you will smile. (And if that kid has just been diagnosed with strep, you will follow this with vigilantly scrubbing hand sanitizer on those same hands until you nearly bleed.)
Not only will you and that child smile, the five other people going into or out of the office will also smile. Which is nice considering one of those moms could moments previously be heard hurrying their kid out of the car saying they were running behind. Skipping is a pleasant spectator sport, apparently.
Day 30 – After a couple of days of tv, tv, and more tv, I took the remote from the little one. As expected, there was resistance in the form of whining. I told him we were done sitting around because he was better so we were going to do something fun. He hopped up with that gap-toothed smile of his cheering at the idea of fun. I then used the remote to turn on YouTube on television. He was visibly confused as he knows of my utter hatred for YouTube. I used the search feature to pull up a version of “Hokey Pokey” thinking I would win Mom of the Year in his eyes. As the song began, I followed the instructions to do the Hokey Pokey all the while encouraging (or begging, some would say) for D to come and dance with me. He was having no part of it. I went through a bit of the song before it became abundantly clear this would be a solo performance and I might as well give up. The entire time I was asking him to join me and going through the motions myself, D glared at me in a way that is usually reserved for teenagers to look at their parents.
After I turned it off, he waltzed right back to his bedroom and came back with two containers of playdoh. He reached up to hand them to me and said, “Now, can we finally do something fun?” I guess he’s not gonna do the Hokey Pokey and turn himself around.