Friday, December 14, 2007

My son is broken.

He used to not be broken. But now he is. There was a time when I could take him to his room and lay him down and he would stay there and sleep. I can't tell you how long it's been since he's actually laid down in his bed when I told him to. I can't tell you how many nights now in a row that I have waken to his little body twisted in some strange configuration in our bed. He's just there. I don't hear him get in. He just slithers in like a little snake. He's quiet and I don't hear or feel a thing. I just see him in the morning.

He knows better than to wake me. It means that he has to sleep in his own bed. I started to think last night that there is something wrong with his room. Something that he doesn't like. I can't for the life of me figure this out. I think that Supernanny couldn't even help me. I've tried her methods of walking him back to his room a thousand times. It doesn't stick. What on earth are we going to do? Wait it out? And maybe when he's 12 he'll sleep better? Well what about my sleep? I don't think I can wait 9 and a half years for him to get it right. I think I might just check myself into the loony bin before that day comes. I mean, it's not that he's a bad sleeper either, because he does sleep. He just won't go to sleep at bedtime. And he won't stay in his room. He gets up at night and comes into our room.

He just walks right out of the room. Over and over and over again. No matter how many times I put him back. No matter if I'm nice or if I yell. No matter if I loose my temper and give him a nice firm swat to the behind. He just keeps coming back out. It's especially hard right at bed time. I try at 7:30 and he isn't sleeping until 9:10. That was last night.

Did I forget to mention that I feel like death warmed over? Yep. That just about sums it up. I feel like the sludge left over on the side of a freshly shoveled snowy road. The dirty snow that gets tossed to the side. That's me. You see, I started to come down with a little cold last week sometime. Right before the weekend. I laid around a little, but I eventually started to feel better. Until about 2 days ago. My little cold took a U-turn. My slight cold turned into some crazy heavily congested, superfluous mucous making, energy draining, throat scratching, life sucking, tissue hogging kind of force that has taken over my body. I don't have a fever. I don't have fluid in my lungs. So I'm clear of pneumonia. It's all in my head. Which by the way, feels like it weighs about 15 lbs. I can't breathe and I even started taking drugs, which I don't enjoy doing. When I talk my voice sounds like a sick person. A very congested sick person that you want to take a few steps back from, if they were standing in or near your vicinity. Simply by doing so, it would lessen your chances of catching my deathly nasty Rhinovirus.

You know what's just sick about this whole thing? I haven't stopped for one moment. These poor kids are in my personal space and are in my care. They are trying really hard to catch this. And I'm trying really hard not to give it to them. Of course they don't know any better. They don't know what germs are. And they don't know that I'm harboring a nasty virus within my very cells that can make them feel just awful. They are too young to know about this kind of thing. I guess, in a way, that sort of ignorance truly is bliss. They just know that I'm mommy. Even stuffy head, unable to breathe or articulate words without sounding like a sick buffoon. I'm still mommy who rules their little world. Alexa does have some lesser version of this. I even stole the humidifier out of her room last night to try and help myself. I did it because she is feeling better. At least she acts like she is feeling better. She is coughing less and has virtually no runny nose. Virtually meaning almost none. Eddie doesn't seem to be showing any signs of illness at all. I give him a week. But I secretly pray that he doesn't catch this at all. Or maybe he has had this strain before??? Who knows.

I just know that I feel awful. I can't breathe, and well should there be more? Oh yeah. Right you are then. Eddie. He is broken and won't go to sleep when I tell him to. So, any suggestions, tips or offers to keep him at your place for the night, are all welcomed here! Thanks for reading!

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