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Sick kids, or manipulative mind control experts?

There is nothing worse than a sick child; only not really for them, but for us parents. What? I’m not being cruel or callous- the fact is that kids are ridiculously resilient  and us adults are old and rickety and we don’t bounce back as fast. Not even from sicknesses that aren’t our own. Little ones can be diagnosed with some kind of infection, virus, whatnot and whathave you and still be bouncing around the house and totally back to 100% in a few days, meanwhile, our asses catch a headcold with a slightly elevated temperature and we’re completely out of commission for an entire month.

It took a long time and a lot of mental training- but I finally worked myself out of the helicoptering totally overprotective nutbar and became the parent I never thought I’d be; the “Don’t bleed on my carpet!” kind; which I used to think was pure unadulterated evil, but now I realize blood on the carpet really sucks and for the most part, kids are dramatic whiny babies Maybe that’s an ugly thing to say, but truth is truth- even if it ain’t pretty.

Even with this knowledge (which I think is important to have) when one of my little ones gets sick- and I mean the real ugly kind of sick where you can tell they just feel absolutely redawful- all of my Red Forman-esque “Don’t bleed on my carpet!” will-power goes flying out of the window and is replaced by “Oh, that’s okay if you want to bleed on my carpet I guess. Can I get you some water? A snack? A hug?”

This leaves me wondering, y’all. It does seem awfully convenient, does it not? 

Are these “sick” kids actually sick- or just mind-control experts, using us as gullible pawns to get whatever they want; things we otherwise would have told them not to do?

Parker is sick. Super sick. Not the boogery-coughy normal germy kid sick- but so sick he had to be rushed to the emergency room in the middle of the night on Sunday. I’ll pause for a moment to say that he is feeling better and will be just fine- but that kind of shit FREAKS A PARENT OUT.
Even on a less severe level- it convinces us to do things we would NEVER usually do, and allow things we would rather spork out an eyeball than allow under any normal circumstances.

The child has this odd habit of getting out of bed nearly every night and snoring at the top of the stairs. This shit makes me CRAZY. On any other day, when I hear the familiar sound of mouth-breathing, I march my ass upstairs with a “OH HELL NAW!” head bobble and march his ass back to bed.
While sick? I’m just happy to see him, so that I didn’t have to hover over his bed like a creeper.

When he told me he wanted to take a nap at 9am this morning, which usually I would NEVER allow such a thing and would do my damnedest to keep him awake- today I let it go.
Sure, ruin your afternoon nap, scream through dinner because you’re tired, and then refuse to fall asleep- it’s okay! You’re sick!

Oh, kiss your toe, you said? Well, even though I HATE feet- we’re talking about a “make me barf” level where I don’t even want to look at my own because I am so disgusted by them… but okay, if it makes you feel better. Thank you for coughing in my face. I mean, we’ve had a gajillion conversations about how proper etiquette means that you should cover your mouth and it should be second nature by now… but, you’re sick- so okay. And go ahead and take over my bed while you’re at it. And my pillow, even though you’re germy and will probably spread to me whatever plague you seem to have.

I guess I can’t say much, since I do the same thing. I talked Thomas into getting me a magical blueberry cheesecake milkshake (seriously, it’s so good it MUST be magic. Or laced with crack) because my poor wittle throat hurt.
It’s the fact that this milking the situation to get what we want starts so early is frightening. And does not bode well for my stress level, health, or wrinkles.

Posted on May 28, 2013 by Holdin' Holden 0 Comment
Holdin' Holden

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