Not just under but also out of the weather

It’s been a hell of a week. Noah has been very sick. The sickest he’s ever been. He has a severe sore throat that may or may not be strep. The doctor described it as being very ripped up and full of pus. Yuck. He’s had a fever of 103 for six days. He’s listless, whiny and clingy. He freaks out if I get up to get the phone. He falls asleep for short intervals and wakes up in a panic, wanting me constantly by his side. He whines “Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama.” He’s not eating and barely drinking and I fear my already skinny boy is wasting away to nothing. He can’t do much walking or even sitting up unpropped and he spends much of his time watching preschool TV. After 52 hours of antibiotics I really thought he would have showed some serious improvement, but no such luck. It better turn around tomorrow. Not only am I at the end of my rope from lack of sleep, the constant unrelenting need, my inability to leave the house for days and my feeling so sorry for him, but I’m also a bit worried. I need him well.

Ray however is perfectly healthy and chomping at the bit. He’s a bundle of energy and has been fairly content to storm around the house and tear everything apart. He is a destroyer of worlds! He is actually benefitting from Noah being sick – suddenly all the toys are HIS. He can play with it all and no one will try to lay claim to it.

But before this blight of illness descended on our home – was anything new? It’s hard to remember. Here are a few things that stick out:

Thanks to repeated watching of episodes of the first season of The Muppet Show, Noah has developed a crush on Connie Stevens. It must be something in the way she sings “Teenager in Love” and “Close to You” or how she dances divinely with Bert. Whatever it is, Noah’s got it bad. He has written her a fan letter asking her to come to our place so that he can dance with her. He later told me that I should invite people over to watch their dance. As soon as I get confirmation of a date from her people I will send out the formal invites. No guests please as space will be limited.

Noah is constantly asking us to tell him stories at bed time. They have to be about Halloween and they have to be scary. And no psychological dramas either. He wants witches, ghosts and monsters. The one caveat is that at no time within the story should Noah and Mama ever be separated. Apparently we must face all evil together. Mark is gifted at narratives on the spot but mine are often pretty lame. I’ve learned that if there is a funny noise Noah can easily overlook the general lameness of the narrative. Oh and for awhile all stories also had to include Connie Stevens.

The two weeks before Noah got sick we were in a constant state of movement. I adore the fall weather. It energizes me and drives me to make the very most out of every day. And so we were at the Zoo twice, the Discovery Museum, the new Please Touch Museum (incredibly awesome! You must go, Lonna.), Linvilla Orchards, Frankilin Square, etc. And Noah’s in a phase where he doesn’t want a good time to end. So any time it was time to leave a place or leave a friend he’d ask me why friends and family members could not live with us and why we couldn’t live at The Please Touch Museum, the Zoo, etc.

Mark returned from his Sacramento business trip with a stuffed Orca whale with “Sacramento” embroidered on it. Noah named him “Spot the whale.” The title is very apropos as I’m constantly trying to spot that damn whale. It’s really the first stuffed thing that Noah ever really attached to and he’s asked to take it with him everywhere. And of course then I’m having to hunt for it later.

Ray is still in a super fun stage. He’s talking all sorts of hysterical gibberish. Every time I’m on the phone with someone they invariably say “Is that Ray?” about all the yapping they hear in the background. He’s big into balls, marbles, trains and cars – more classicly active boy than Noah was at this age. He likes to move cars around on the floor and make car noises, throw and roll. And of course I can’t help but mention the temper. If he’s doing something he shouldn’t, like putting a crayon in his mouth, and you give him a firm “No,” he will invariably throw that thing to the floor as if to say “FINE! Have it!” I try not to laugh but it’s hard.

Edit: Noah’s strep test is negative. Doc says he has either Mono or Adeno virus. Antibiotics of no help. Just have to wait it out. Told me to call her this weekend if he gets worse. Lovely.