Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Two Colds and a Baby


It was a long weekend at Chez Blackwell.

The sun was shining, the air was crisp and there was a full slate of football games to be watched. So, it set up to be perfect.

And, while I watched plenty of football, I did so through puffy, blood shot eyes, drifting in and out of sleep. I never really “watched” so much as shared the same room with a television tuned to football games. And that, my friends, is no way to watch football.

Pictured: two sick, tired, crying babies. 
Sick, I was. There was plenty of sneezing, blowing, snorting and other awfulness. But I wasn't alone in my misery.

Master Blackwell was also completely under the weather with me. So, we shared similar discomfort as we endured what I'm pretty sure was the same cold. That said, he might have whined less than I did.

He endured a lot of firsts last weekend.

First time experiencing the non-specific, head-clogging discomfort of a cold. First time feeling that fuzzy, foggy, disconnected, sick feeling. First time really coughing. First time having trouble breathing through his nose. First time having mommy and daddy attempt to jam a sucking device up his nose in vain attempts to drain it.

Note: If you don’t know how powerful a 20-week old baby boy can be, try to drain his nose. It’s not as bad as giving a fully-grown cat a bath, but it’s in the same ball park, albeit with far more clawing. (Kidding.)

Attempting to keep an infant clean and free from wearing nose and mouth excretions like a chinstrap is a losing battle at the best of times. When the baby is sick, it’s a full time job.

My wife and I watched – numerous times – as one of us dabbed and wiped him clean only to turn around literally seconds later and have a bigger mess on their hands.

OK. So, maybe draining my son's nose is less dangerous.
There are few crueler mockeries than watching “things” go out – and then back into – your baby’s nose as he breathes while a burp cloth is far, far out of reach.

So, again, we learned a little bit more about our boy and ourselves.

He is a fighter, to be sure. He can laugh when he’s uncomfortable. The ceiling fan is still, bar none, the most interesting item ever devised by man and sleep is still his – and our – best friend. 

My wife and I are drawing closer to completing our education in “gross” and, as sufficiently humbled creatures, we're also shedding what's left of our superficial pride.

To that aim, the boy demonstrated he's well ahead of us. 

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Props to the mommy who nursed both big and little babies back to health, sanitizing, washing laundry, accommodating the oh so particular sleeping demands of the infirmed.