Sick.

We're almost three years into this gig and I'd like to think we're at least sort of getting the hang of it. I'm at least hoping that we'll be able to say that we were competent before we lapse into the world of childhood that exists on beyond my expertise (you know, the land of 6 and up...) and for the most part, so far, I think we're on track. Even though parenting is peppered with complaints and struggles, for the most part its incredibly rewarding. We love our kids and we've been blessed with boys who are incredibly sweet and endearing. Yet, as a parent I really don't know how to describe how hard it is for me when my boys are sick. I've never in my life felt that kind of helplessness. Its rather strange, because I wasn't exactly alarmed by it because I knew that they'd get better, but I think my heart really, physically ached for two weeks.

This winter, since Owen's been One, we've been dealing with back to back illnesses. Colds, flu-like stuff, coughs, runny noses. Its really been awful. I just want to open the windows and air out my whole house, but they're sealed for the winter, and as a result, the miserable air is trapped inside with the four of us. Like a hotbox of germs.

First we had a bout of what we thought was a stomach-flu like bug. Collin was throwing up and soon after Owen was sick. Almost two weeks into it, with both boys running fevers, being inconsolable, not sleeping at all we found out poor Owen had a double ear infection, a cold and was teething, and Collin was wandering through his days with a miserable cold, very little to no sleep and an amazing ability to constantly whine, " I don't feel very well (said in the most sad pouty voice you can muster)."

After the first week I thought for sure that each day they would begin to get better and after consoling and holding both boys nearly constantly, I'm pretty sure I just about lost my mind because they didn't. Really, it was this conflicting emotional roller coaster where my heart was breaking every single day for them but I was losing my sense of sympathy at the same time. I hope that doesn't sound too awful. I just had such a hard time hearing those whines, the reluctance to allow anything to go on but to sit and listen to the whines and the companion misery. Oh, the constant, constant, whines. Gasp.

Drew and I were home, alternating who stayed and played nurse while the other put in a few hours at work, trying desperately to get them to be better. It was like a long long long episode of the twilight zone. I don't know how else to describe it. It's like an alternate reality where the rest of life just stops. Our house moves into this strange purgatory of germs.

After almost three weeks we were nearly germ free. I was excited and exhausted. I really think my heart broke every single day that I woke up and found Collin again saying "I don't feel very well...sniffle, sniffle, tears.", followed immediately by "hold me! pweease(tears, tears, crying)." During those three week Owen was incredibly cuddly. He never ever has fallen asleep cuddled on my shoulder and for those two weeks, everyday he just wanted me to hold him and cuddle him to sleep. It was terribly depressing. At the same time, because Collin was sick he wanted to be held too, making everyday a battle of the wills. I could barely keep it together as Collin cried, sobbed for me to hold him, while Owen was asleep on my chest. I can't even tell you how my heart broke and crumbled. There aren't any words.

So, when they were better, I felt like the fog finally lifted and I was counting my blessings. During the second year of Collin's life- up until he turned two, he got sick one time. So I figured that this one time was my due diligence for at least the next year. We were in the clear. Hallelujah!

But, a week and a half later, Collin was sick again. Deja Vu. So so so miserable and I really didn't know what to do. We took him to the doctor earlier this time to be sure we weren't dealing with another ear infection (after a few days of high fevers), but no infection was found and so we were sent home to grin and bear it. It was like a little sentence back to purgatory. Ish.

Collin took another week and three days to get better. Another week and three days of "hold me", "I don't feel very well!" and constant whining. I didn't know what to do for him. Night after night of getting up, multiple times, crying, wanting to be held and rocked and hugged. It was painful to endure.

Then we were near the end of February, things were finally clearing up a bit-- but Owen awoke two days latter with a runny nose. I couldn't believe it. Two whole months of sickness. Here we are. Its March, and Owen is still congested, but I thank my lucky stars that he's not down and out with a cold or flu.

And I didn't even mention in this post that I got sick too along the way.

As a momma this is the hardest thing that I've had to try to figure out. I felt like in so many ways I was along for the ride. I couldn't do anything to make them feel better and so many days my patience was thin. I realize it shouldn't have been, that I should have had an everlasting wealth of empathy. I was exhaused and not practicing my best momma skills. But, the problem for me is that I don't know any better way to handle it next time, and that makes me feel defeated.

Its when your kids are sick that you want to be able to give them the most. To hold them, to hug them, to wipe away their tears. I feel like I can do that most of the time, but I can't do it all the time and it breaks my heart to know I can't fix it for Collin and Owen when they are sick. That sense of helplessness is sickening, and so I find myself right back where I started.

Sick about being sick.

Ugh.