As I carefully got into bed, my knees and hips aching, almost throbbing, Lucas ran around the room, picking up some books for me to read to him. It had been a couple of days of this flu. The headache was bad, but the muscle aches in my lower back, hips, and knees were most unexpected and made life really challenging. I’m an active parent who sits on the ground, moves around with my children, and moves around the house with them. So asking kids to bring things over to me and not feeling comfortable lifting them makes this situation even more difficult.
My two oldest kids understand what it means when I’m sick. They’ve been sick themselves and are old enough to remember what it feels like to have some empathy for me. They don’t completely understand what this all means with my patience and my moods, but they seem to be giving me a break. When asking for help, Ethan was waiting for me to come by, and Ollie seemed to understand that I needed a couple of extra seconds to answer him or get him something.
On the other hand, Lucas seemed to have no clue that I wasn’t feeling well. He’s about a month shy of 3-years-old and sweet as can be. So when he noticed that I was sitting down and spending more time in bed, he saw this as an opening. A large human sitting down on a couch or in bed is someone ready to read a book to him.
I finally got myself into bed. I got a pillow propped up behind me and motioned at Lucas to come on over. He hurriedly came over, put one book on my chest, ran away, grabbed another book, and before I knew it, I had four books piled on my chest. Then, someone, Lucas, managed to get on the bed. Leading with his head, he somehow balanced a leg up on the side table and climbed in.
Awkwardly I pulled him across my body and positioned him to the right of him. After some challenging maneuvering, Lucas was cuddling right next to me with my right arm around him. I looked down at him, and he smiled with silent satisfaction. Next, I picked up a book and read it to him.
I was tired, and my brain was still foggy, so reading to him took far more effort than expected. My expressions weren’t great, I messed up some words and skipped some sentences, but Lucas didn’t mind. After each book was done, he got up, grabbed the next book, and then cuddled up for the next book.
After we finished the books, I asked Lucas if he was ready to go to his crib. He pointed to his room, climbed over, and jumped off the bed. He waited for me as I slowly came out of bed, wincing at the pain in my hips. I slowly walked Lucas over to his room, holding his hand. When we got to his crib, I carefully and slowly picked him up and put him in his crib. I took a deep breath recovering from all the effort it took to lift him.
Lucas then made a sound at me, holding his hands up. “Dude, I can’t lift you out of there. You just got in…[sigh] ok fine.” As I leaned over the crib, he gave me a tight hug around my neck, and then plopped down into his crib and cuddled up with his bellow. I laughed at myself and said, “goodnight, Lucas-bear,” blew him a kiss, and left his room for the night.
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