The boy is sick. Again.Sometimes I think he's a hypochondriac. Sometimes I think he gets sick more than any three people I know.
When he was little, really little, he was such an easy sick baby. He had his little stuffed seal that I named Shakespeare...and he called Bakes-beer. He had one of his little baby blankets. And he had either his bottle or his sippy cup, depending on his age. He didn't whine or cry; he just wanted to be left alone. I'd put in his favorite Disney movie and he'd fall asleep.
Today, holy wow! He gripes and complains about every little pain. He's had kidney stones four times in the last nine months. And I know they're painful; I've endured that pain as well. He's had a handful of migraines in the last year. Again, I know they're painful; I've had them too. And every time he has a headache or a cold or a sore muscle, he's a HORRIBLE sick baby.
I kind of miss that two-year-old that was so darn easy to placate.
1 comment:
Face it...he's turning into a full-fledged grown-up male. And that's what most men do when they get sick. When my son was recuperating from wisdom teeth removal, he laid in the recliner and griped for three days. When my daughter had hers removed, she got up at 5am the next morning and wanted to go shopping.
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