My Own Personal Nurse

I am sick. I went to the doctor today, and I have strep.

It's not fun. You know what it's like to be sick and still be in charge of the family and household. I do not handle it well. Nope. Not well at all.

I suspect that Emma doesn't feel well either. Resulting in her being extra needy, yesterday. I was trying to work from home and she was working, too. Working my nerves. Trying to climb in my nap, wanting things every two minutes, throwing screaming fits when she didn't get her way. And I was so not in the mood to cater to her ever whim. She eventually realized this and went to her room to play and watch movies. When I was done working, I went to check on her. Literally, she had only been gone from my lap for like 20 minutes. Of course, her room was a disaster area. So I declared it was clean up time. She went into her regular routine of "I don't want to" and "I need help (haaayyy- eeellppp)" all the while throwing herself around and crying. I calmly (I think, things get blurry here), told her that she had better pick up the paper dolls (we have a history with these paper dolls), or I was going to throw them away. Same empty threat I always give. Then she said "I don't know how".... I don't know why this made me go crazy, maybe it was because every two days we have it out about her picking those paper dolls up and putting them back into the plastic box we have them stored in. So I grabbed the box, threw all the dolls (and dresses, and crowns, and purses, etc, etc) into it, grabbed her by the arms and marched her to the trashcan. I proceeded to dump the lot into the can, while making her watch. I then got in her face and said "If you can't clean it up, you can't have it!"

I didn't feel bad about it at the time. Now, however... I suspect she will need therapy as an adult. When I recanted the story to Clinton when he got home, he laughed until I told him that I made her watch... then he said "that was rough."

I'm feeling really bad about it today. If you are not already thinking that was a harsh move, you will when I tell you how she acted last night.

She ended up crying herself to sleep (another indicator that she didn't feel good, that child doesn't nap often!) But she woke up from her (late) nap, she was in a fantastic mood, earlier harsh parenting evidently forgotten. I, on the other hand, felt worse than ever. Thank God for Clinton cooking and feeding us, because they could have had cereal for supper for all I cared.

Then, my baby, whom I had scarred for life, decided she needed to take care of me. I took a hot bath, and she arranged my towel, patted my head, fanned me with her toy mop (how cute is that!), and ordered her Daddy to bring me hot chocolate and Nyquil. It wasn't the most relaxing bath I've ever had, but I loved it anyway!