What "They" Say

When WC was an infant, people used to tell me about how much better it is when the child is older and can tell you what is wrong. The guesswork of soothing a sobbing infant will be a thing of the past. HAHAHAHAHAHA. And Bill Cosby even said that the only time a child tells the truth is when he is in pain. That might be true of older children. There's nothing quite like attempting to figure out what is wrong with a sobbing six year old who suddenly has the communication skills of that infant and can do nothing but cry. It's more frustrating than the infant because in your parental head you keep thinking, But you talk constantly! Why the hell are you just sitting there crying? But, of course you don't say that to the child. You keep your voice low and try to remain calm while you engage in a game a charades to attempt to locate the issue that you as a parent have to fix in order to restore happiness. Tuesday afternoon WC had fallen asleep on the sofa after watching one of his favorite shows. I didn't think anything about it. I could tell he didn't feel well and struggling with his asthma all day, he was wiped out. He needed to rest. It wasn't until he sat up sobbing an hour later that I regretted this.

My mom had just brought CJ home, who was immediately distressed at hearing the sounds of his brother wailing. He began to cry. My mom, being kind enough not to run away and leave me alone with them in this state even though she wanted to, sat down with CJ. So I could continue to attempt to decipher the ancient code of uncontrollable sobbing. My first thought was that his chest was tight & he needed another treatment or a shower? No. Are you in pain? No response. I took his temp. Normal. I'm running out of possibilities and was ready to pantomime hanging myself when he squeaked out the word, "head." Head? Does your head hurt? "Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssss." he sobbed. I was excited. Now that I can fix. I give him a dose of ibuprofen to which he acts like I'm forcing him to drink a gallon jug of sulphuric acid. Then I do the only other thing that I can think to do to comfort him while we wait for the medicine to work. I sit down and pull his lanky self into my lap, tucking in arms and legs. I'm not very tall and he comes up to my shoulders while standing, so this is not as easy as it used to be. He curls up and drifts off back to sleep and after a while moves so that his legs extend onto the couch but his head is resting against my chest. That I must admit that I sort of enjoyed that. After about half hour he begins to wake up and roll off my lap. He puts his feet on his Nana and begins to talk with her like nothing had been wrong.  

Stay tuned for my next entry discussing our second day of school from home.