Thursday, February 20, 2014

One Flu Over the Cuckoo's Nest

The flu has hit the Gunther family. We're not quarantined certainly and nobody's confined to bed rest or subsisting on NeoCitran and Tylenol. Thankfully (I think) it seems to be getting us only one at a time, first with a day of "blah" followed by a day or two of fever, sore throat, headache and coughing, then several days of hacking up a lung.

We certainly learn a lot about one's character when one is sick, though, don't we? No, not moral character, but that of physical fortitude. Milo was the first to be hit but he suffers so quietly and solitarily, I didn't even know he had a sore throat until he told me that's why he hadn't been eating. For two days! Good thing too, I guess, since he's the kid who refuses anything that is outside his rather limited repertoire of acceptable edibles, even if it might make him feel better. Not even good old fashioned chicken soup.

Willa, on the other hand, began complaining about not feeling well on the first day of feeling "blah". She is somewhat more needy than her brother and certainly is more vocal about how miserable she is feeling. I don't blame her, of course. Nobody enjoys being sick. Even when you're 10 years old and it means missing school, getting out of chores and staying in bed with books and your iPod all day.

Neva, the oldest, hasn't come down with anything - and hopefully won't. But I know that she's like her sister and requires more attention.

What I've noticed, however, is no matter how different each kid's need for comfort is during the day, it's a level playing field when the lights go out. Each one wants my company at bed time. Whether it's to hold a cool cloth to their forehead, or to lie down with them or to simply "stay here a little", they just want Mom. I might fuss and complain about how little work I get done during the day with all the extra requests and interruptions, but night time is different. I feel I need to be with them as much as they need me. So I’ll be there. And I will be there when they're 20 years old and still just need a little TLC.

I just hope by then Milo will finally eat some chicken soup!

Happy Comping,

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com