We are living in the trenches right now. Yesterday, it was essential to try to keep BG still. His cold had settled into his chest, and his breathing was so labored. Any time he so much as crawled three feet, the poor guy was horribly winded, and yet he couldn’t stop moving. We wore him in the Ergo a lot, even tried to watch TV with him, despite our vows not to (didn’t matter, he wasn’t at all interested because he had so many things to do!), anything to keep him still. Today, he seems to feel quite a bit better, but he’s still got the crankiness of someone who doesn’t feel well, and to top it off, I spotted something very alarming in his mouth–further back, there is a gigantic bump, the tell-tale sign of his first molar coming through.
So, because the boy is sick and because his mouth likely hurts like hell, he won’t eat. Today, he ate mostly bread products and yogurt. I made him his favorite potato-leek soup, and it may as well have been a bowl of paint because he flung the spoon back at me. He normally loves pasta but wanted nothing to do with that. We can barely get him to eat fruit, which he loves. It’s painful. I mean, he has adopted the fickle eating habits of your average one-year-old, but when he’s interesting in nothing more than bread and yogurt, we know we’re in crisis mode, and that’s where we are.
He also won’t sleep. Our usual attempts to get him to sleep are failing right and left. He’s always been a bad sleeper, but he is fighting any sleep whether naps or nighttime. Tonight it took him over an hour to get him to go to sleep, and he spent the bulk of this time screaming and kicking at us all the while trying to cling to our necks to stay upright lest he accidentally fall asleep on his side. He’s going be very angry with himself when he wakes up.
On top of this, my poor wife is suffering from insomnia. No mother of a toddler needs insomnia. It’s a cruel, cruel thing to ask someone to endure. She is being such a trooper. I love her for this.
Please gods, send us a rope ladder; we want to climb out of this.