Sam was coughing over the weekend, and starting to have a runny nose, so we knew that he was getting sick. Well, yesterday morning when I went to get him out of his crib he was burning up. I took his temperature (thank goodness for FINALLY being able to do it under the armpit!), and it was 100.8. Of course, to me that seems really high, but I realize in kids they can get a higher fever with less problems than adults.
Basically he spent the day with a bad chest cough and a fever, although we did use Tylenol to bring it down. He's sick enough to be kind of out of commission, but not sick enough to take to the doctor - maybe if the fever lasts a couple of more days.
The funny thing is that I actually REALLY enjoyed the day. See, the thing is that Sam is a VERY active child. He likes to move, run, play, jump on me and break me. But yesterday, he was all cuddles. He wanted to sit on my lap. He was up at 8, but climbed into the bed with his Daddy (I was at the doctor) at 11 and fell asleep for three hours. I came home to a quiet house and read for a while, then dozed off on the couch until I heard him waking up. We cuddled and watched TV. Later, around 5 he brought me into the bedroom again and we laid under the blanket, cuddling and talking. He babbled, I listened, putting in my own words once in a while. Then he fell asleep in my arms again and we slept for a couple of hours.
I hate hearing him cough, and knowing he doesn't feel good (yesterday he learned to say "I sick"), but I also loved every minute of that day. I loved being able to go back to a cuddly little guy, to know that the one thing that COULD make him feel better was being cuddled and loved and being close to me. To know that I was giving him comfort... It bring tears to my eyes now thinking about it. I guess I suddenly just realized that I'm IT for him. Those memories I have of my Mom taking care of me when I was young and sick, the memories that still make me call her when I'm sick to get some comfort... I'm creating those for my own son now. And that is overwhelming.
I've been thinking a lot about this whole adventure that's is motherhood lately. I'm not sure why. Maybe it started when we cut Sam's hair. I look at him now, and he doesn't look like a baby, he barely even looks like a toddler anymore. He looks like a KID. How did this happen? WHEN did this happen?! Today I read this post over at The Bean, and I couldn't help stop the tears that came to my eyes.
This whole thing, it is WEIRD. I never imagined that this thing could be possible. This little person who I somehow managed to bring into this world. It's like every moment is filled with this amazing anticipation of what is to come, but at the same time you are mourning the way they used to be.
Heartache. A longing for a good future, and such a strong desire to see where they will go, what they will do next that it's almost unbearable. And at exactly the same moment, tears for the past, for that little thing he used to do, for the way his cheeks used to pudge up, for the way he used to hold his arms out when he walked. Pride in the things he can do, when he says his first word, first sentence, first numbers, or sings his first song. And a love so strong that you would do anything to defend your baby from anyone who wanted to cause him harm. But at the same time, knowing that you HAVE to let him get hurt, you have to let him learn and be his own person.
It is the biggest, craziest jumble of emotions. And yet, we manage to tame it all and focus on the moment we're in so that we can be a MOTHER.
I've been writing the last parts of this post in my head for days, and I still can't get it right. I feel inept to capture the beauty of my situation, of this funny place I've found in life. I really don't have the words.
