On the last day in July, L, J and I went up to friends' weekend wedding in Point Reyes. The surroundings were beautiful and we were glad for a weekend away from the city. There was a small creek behind the hotel which J loved. And I could pick fresh apples and blackberries from the plants on which they actually grow. (Picking and eating fruit -- tropical and NE US -- is something that was a big part of my childhood, but which J doesn't see very often.)
However, that night J woke up around 11pm with a high fever and was up most of the night. We gave him some ibuprofen and he (and we) were able to get some sleep before the ceremony early Saturday afternoon. The rest of the weekend went pretty well considering how it had started.
When we got home to the city, J's breath started stinking and his gums were red and swollen. His pediatrician identified the illness as the initial infection with Herpes simplex, and gave us a over-the-counter remedy for a topical oral anesthetic for when the sores started. He stayed with me instead of going to day care, and for an uncomfortable two-year old, he did pretty well. His appetite and energy started recovering by the end of that week, and he went back to day care the next Monday (earlier this week). The only remaining problem seemed to be that being catered to all week had spoiled him a bit. He was being quite a brat.
But now I had a problem in that I had come down with it. I had assumed that, since I've had cold sores before, that at most I'd get a cold sore. Over the week, often finishing food J didn't want, I got myself quite an exposure, so who knows what happened. Anyway, last Friday, I came down with a high fever and chills which stayed for three days, making me unable to move very much. I am now also recovering energy and appetite, and have been able to play with Jasper more.
Last night, after J said he wanted to play with blocks, he dumped them out of the bag into his dump truck, and dumped them from there on to the floor. But then he said he didn't want to play with them anymore and walked away. I dragged him back and held him screaming trying to get him to put them away. L came by and reinforced the message and tried to get him into family block-putting-away. Beyond telling him he couldn't play us against each other, this seemed to only make it worse, so she left. A few minutes later, he was happily helping me put the blocks away, insisting on putting the last several blocks in the bag himself.
My interpretation is that he was being such a brat not because he was spoiled while he was sick, but because he was acting out in hopes of drawing me off the sick bed. I often play the role of stern enforcer of discipline for him, and I think he was worried about my sudden withdrawal from family life. He didn't really seem to understand that it was completely due to illness, even though he had just recovered from it. So being bratty was the expression of his anxiety about my illness.
Thankfully, those two weeks, of nursing J's illness and then my own, seem to be nearly over.
No comments:
Post a Comment