Plague House

Just kidding. We don’t have the plague. We don’t even have any infectious diseases. We just have the worst seasonal allergies of any family ever.

Little Brother is actually fine. He sneezes about three times a day but isn’t bothered by it. He’s just napping because he’s a baby and he naps a lot.

Big Brother has begun the incessant snorting that will continue until probably February. Not my favorite time of year. He refuses to blow his nose, so it’s just snort, snort, snort, all day, every day.

Middle Brother, however, is not used to his allergies yet in the way that he inevitably will be because we all are. They have taken him down. He was whiny all morning, which I totally get because he doesn’t feel good. I’m an adult who knows why I don’t feel good, and I still want to whine. There were a lot of cuddles, he constantly had his blanket, and he wanted a lot of fruit snacks, which I happily gave him because I want comfort food when I’m not feeling well, too. He finally passed out, and I’m hoping it’s restorative because I want my little man to feel better. I read a quote recently about how we expect more of our children than other adults, like they’re supposed to be on their best behavior all the time and they’re not allowed to have a bad day or they’re punished, and I’m trying to watch for that attitude in my home. If my children are sick, I want to treat them how I’d like to be treated when I’m sick. I’d like to be compassionate, not expecting perfect behavior even though they’re tired and stuffy. I really do just want him to feel better, and I have to expect him to act like he feels bad and doesn’t know why, because that’s his truth.

In the meantime, I am going to take advantage of the rest of this incredibly rare dual naptime to read some more of my ARC of Saint X, which I am enthralled by.