The advantages we have in this country with preschools. We pay a symbolic sum every month to be able to leave our children with, in most cases, competent and caring people so we can go to work and go about our daily lives. There are some downsides to preschools as well, like loosing one sock every day, your child mysteriously pooing glitter and the copying of the older kids’ behaviours, such as saying “neeeee”, “blääää” and throwing the food he doesn’t want, on the ceiling. The worst downside of them all is the constantly runny nose and the fact that our child now gets quite ill once a month, at least. Just as he gets well again, the next thing strikes.
Only a small selection of odd socks I’ve brought back from the preschool
Yesterday when we woke up it was quiet. My husband and I woke up first. Never happened before. It was past eight o’clock. Igge usually wakes up with giggle and a “heeeeey” in falsetto, ready to start playing around six. Not that morning. Vegan-Dad and I both jumped out of bed, like gazelles smelling a lion’s fart at the water hole, to see what was wrong. When we looked down in the crib our eyes met the indifferent glossy glare of our son. He then quietly turned over and went back to sleep. I personally think that he had been awake from six and was pissed off that we didn’t telepathically know that he was feeling like crap and woke up by ourselves to come to his rescue, but what do I know?
Grumpy little sickling
When he woke up the next time I picked him up and if I would have put a steak on his head, it would have cooked medium-well in a minute. Igge has had a fever before but this was extreme. Took his temperature and it showed 39,8 degrees Celsius. Since I took it in his armpit it means that his actual temperature was even higher. Vegan-Dad and I swore before Igge was born to never become those parents. You know, those parents who go to the doctor’s because their wee one stumbled on the threshold and bruised their pinky toe. Then here we were; our little cool dude had steam oozing from his forehead, our tiger had turned a sloth, our curious George didn’t care about anything! He didn’t even try to plug in a french fry in the headphone entry in the stereo, even though it was all right in front of him.
Of course we had to call someone who knew about disease. We called my mom, she’s a district nurse. She told us what to do and what to look out for. It’s not that I don’t trust her, but I felt that I needed to have a second opinion, so I called my sister who’s also in medicine. Then I called my auntie L, my uncle in Portugal, my cousin who’s a dentist and a friend who works as a psychoanalyst. They all have studied medicine and that’s all that mattered. My friend the psychoanalyst told me to call the child doctor’s office – she’s full of good advice that one. I did and she told me exactly the same as all my relatives and everything we had read up on in books and on the net: keep the child cool but put a blanket on him when he starts to shiver. Give him cool things to eat, give him whatever he wants to eat and make sure he drinks lots of fluids – whatever it might be. Keep an eye out for a rise in temperature and it should go down within three days. Vegan-Dad went out to buy medicine and unhealthy food for our child to indulge and it made wonders. Igge got some antipyretic medicine for babies, ice cream, lots of apple juice and water. After he’d slept for another two hours we made a little trip outside our building for some fresh air and sunshine. I brought cinnamon buns and raspberry juice which normally wouldn’t be allowed for family members under the age of three but this day was all about getting the rowdiness and curiosity back in our child!
Sick or no sick. Cinnamon buns will always go down without problem. Once the sugar was gone, there wasn’t even any energy to enjoy the swing.
Of course he got very angry when his picnic was finished and the sugar had worn off. We had to go back inside where we watched Babblarna for the rest of the day. I can tell you that they have only made material to cover 30-40 minutes, after that it starts again. Oh, yes, from this point on he only wanted to lay on me or he got hysterical fits which made his face even more red and his little body even hotter, so I tried to avoid causing that. That resulted in me laying in bed, with a boiling hot baby on top of me, watching Babblarna on repeat. 15 minutes in I had turned into a wet puddle from the heat, my belly was rumbling of hunger and I really needed to pee. Since I didn’t dare to move, I stayed put like a good mommy. For all six remaining hours.
Watching Babblarna, laying on me like a super soft boiler, coughing and sneezing in my face for six hours. I let him.
Our behaviour is sick when it comes to the way we act when our children is sick. Sick I tell you! And 100% natural.