Kaden is sick. When he was first born we heard horror stories about newborns getting a fever. How if in the first six weeks there is some worry about bacteria or avian flu or something and you have to take him to the emergency room to.. get this, have a spinal tap. Images of that happening led me to simply err on the side waiting till the seventh week to take his temperature for the first time.
But our little Scrambles does not have a fever, and at seven months old he is long past spinal tap fears anyway. He has a cold. Just writing it sounds petty. It brings up visions of a cute little nose making cute little sniffles, perhaps him needing to cuddle a little more. With all my pent up fears about fevers, I hadn't even really considered the distructive possibility of the cold.
Why did no one warn me about colds? All the former smiles and happiness that we've enjoyed the last couple months are temporarily missing. He's pissed, he's sniffly, and he's tired - oh so tired. You see for someone who enjoys sleeping with a pacifier in his mouth, having a stuffy nose is like being caught between a rock and a pile of snot. Either he can sleep with the pacifier in his mouth or he can breath. Or, as Kaden has found, he can scream his head off like this decision is Sophie's Choice. Cujo is back.
And I feel like a total wimp Dad. This is just a cold? Cause this stinks. And it doesn't help that Megan has it too, so it's about as gloomy around here as the Boston weather.
Kaden + Start-Up Mom head to North Carolina with the grandparents while I'm off to Finland, so hopefully both will be nursed back to health by the grandparents. Get the chicken soup ready Leesie!