Thursday, February 14, 2019

Sick Days of Old

We're two weeks into February, and someone in my family has been sick since February 1st.  First my daughter, then my daughter AND my son, then my son AND me, and now just my husband. (I think.  I still have a sore throat, but I'm choosing to ignore it.) 

We've had fevers, we've had some pukes.  We've had stuffy noses and we've had runny noses. We've had Vicks VapoRub slathered on our chests and the bottom of our feet.  We've taken children's Tylenol, children's ibuprofen, and entirely too much DayQuil and NyQuil.

You know one of the things I miss most about childhood? The "sick days" of old. 

Now I'll give my husband some credit, he did make a medicine run (that included some caffeine to help me stay awake to parent) after work one day.  But his job includes crazy overnight hours that have him sleeping most of the day and working most of the night.  So I've been mostly solo for these recent "sickness adventures."  

I just miss being able to lie on the couch, cover up with a blanket and doze in front of the television.  (When I inadvertently tried that last week, my son woke me up by sneezing in my face. Ugh.) 

For me, sick days growing up always equaled 7-Up, Townhouse Crackers, and Dimetapp.  I still like two of those three things; I can't really stomach anything grape-flavored anymore.  I guess I just miss being a kid and having someone else take care of me.  No matter how crappy I felt, being wrapped up in a blanket on the living room couch in front of the TV felt like a safe place.  No matter what else was happening in the world.

Case in point, I have a very vivid memory of being home sick from school on April 19, 1995.  How on Earth can I remember that?  Because it was the day of the Oklahoma City bombing.   I can remember my Dad encouraging me to watch TV with him in the middle of my "medicine head fog" because he said this was big news that was going to be talked about for a long time.  Of course, he was right.  Now, at only 11 years old, I had no idea what was happening.  But it felt important, and I felt important to be watching it.

I wonder what sort of "sick day" memories my kids are going to have.  

My daughter seems to like Ginger Ale and Club Crackers better than 7-Up and Townhouse, so maybe those will be part of her future "sick day nostalgia."  When he's older, I plan to remind my son how hard he laughed whenever I would blow my nose... and how he would try to grab my handkerchief and emulate the silly foghorn-like sound.  

And while I hope they each have their own pleasant "sick day memories" - fingers crossed we can take a break from making any new ones for a while.  

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