Monkey is sick. Not bad sick, and no fever. But he has a little cough (which would be cute if it weren’t caused by other problems) and a stuffy nose. I talked to his pediatrician, and she says no biggie if he’s able to sleep and eat and is generally happy. Which he is. In fact, he’s as happy as he’s ever been when he’s awake. And he’s still going to daycare, ‘cuz, according to his teacher, the “stuffy nose thing” is going around there. So I figure that, if another kid gave it to him, we should share the wealth. I am a democrat after all. And we can’t stay home with him all day long for I-don’t-know-how-many-days it takes for a stuffy nose to clear up in a three-and-a-half-month-old. It’s just not that bad.
BUT he’s only sleeping three hours at a time. Which means I’ve been getting up three times a night to feed him. For the past three nights. And I’m exhausted. The kind of exhausted that gives me a headache. The kind where I don’t really remember the drive to work this morning. The kind that makes me wonder if it’s been three nights or more since Monkey got sick. Worse yet, I’m not sure if I gave Monkey this recent illness, or if he got it from daycare. Which means I’ll be getting it from him next since he’s nursing and sleeping on me from the time I get home and put him to sleep until he gets up in the morning and I take him to daycare. Just as I was getting over the last bit of respiratory crud that wouldn’t go away.
I should just face it – I’m going to be sick and tired the rest of my life.