Sam is sick. Nothing more than a run of the mill cough and fever, but there have been two incidences of vomiting due to excessive coughing, and that is the pits. There was also a two hour crying stint from 4 to 6 am once the last dose of fever reducer wore off. The boy felt like a tinder box, and until the new dose of medicine kicked in Sam snuggled in bed with me and alternated between whimpering and saying 'thank you' which is his new phrase of choice. Sweet and sad all at the same time. We were already running low on the infant's Tylenol in the little bottle with the dropper yesterday, so by this morning we were plumb out. Time for a trip to Target!
I was browsing the aisles, picking up odds and ends. I had to buy swim diapers 'cause we're starting swimming lessons this week. I finally made it over to the pharmacy area to pick up the baby's medicine. All of a sudden, it occurred to me that Sam might qualify for Children's Tylenol instead of Infant's Tylenol. I picked up the two cartons and read the age and weight suggestions. Then I burst into tears. I'm sure only having 4 hours of sleep under my belt had something to do with it, but I just lost it at the idea of my baby not being a baby anymore. Two is just around the corner, lurking like a suspicious stranger. The Canada sweatshirt that a family friend bought for him in the summer of '06 finally fits. He's growing up, big time.
And that is how Children's Tylenol made me cry in Target.
And to illustrate my point, here is my boy this morning. He insisted on being placed in the exersaucer, out for Lucy's entertainment. He is huge.
And here he is getting ready to register for next semester's classes.
The End.
3 comments:
it's tough stuff, isn't it? I still can't believe that there has been enough time between now and the day you, Susan, and I took the boys to Washington Sq for you to have a whole nother baby.
I tossed the exersaucer this week, and Jake crawled into it all by himself when he found it by the door. I almost died to see his legs all curled up in the base. I remember when I had to put a phone book so his feet didn't dangle. ANd Philly phone books are HUGE.
It's so friggin' bittersweet, this growing up stuff. On one hand, I wouldn't give anything for our "conversations" (Mommy? Ernin watchin' George? Okay. Ernin watchin' George 'n habin milk. Mommy? Okay.), but damn, he's hard to pin down for a snuggle anymore!!! And by the time I get him caught up for a big squeeze, he's already chanting "enough, enough, enough, enough" and wriggling to get away. I'm sniffling right there with you, my friend!
No, not the End...just the beginning of a new phase. You sound like you are very raw right now, what with painful damaged ankles, memories of pain and the pain of losing babyhood. It's OK to feel all this stuff. Life is cream and crap at the same time. It seems to be the norm. They say we measure our joy against our suffering. Could you use a bunch of flowers right now? Come and see me.
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