Blue-Eyed Boy

The flu has been making it's way around our house like some evil gift that keeps on giving, and today, I've given in. Everything hurts, and I'm just letting it hurt. You know how, as parents, we tend to fight illness so we can hold everything together? That's been me the last week. Everyone save Aidan's been sick, and I have, too, but I've been carrying on as usual, for the most part.
But today it hit hard, and I've taken to my bed in surrender.
Most of the day has been spent sleeping or surfing the 'net or coughing or trying to hold really, really still so my skin will stop hurting.
My EYEBALLS hurt.
Everyone else is home, too...the daycare is closed due to flu. Caleb is home due to flu. Jim is home due to my flu (he's all better).
So. Liam got it first, and as is common with babies, it's morphed into a throat infection. So he's been the unhappiest by far. And this has wreaked havoc on his sleep.
Oh God.
I did something bad.
So a few months ago Liam gave up his soother. It was a beautifully smooth process. There were some times of protest, yes, but nothing monumental. He was ready.
Then, with this flu, and the bad sleeping...well, I tried everything! Elevating his bed...humidifier...singing...extra long cuddles. Tylenol. Ibuprophen. Weed.
No I didn't!
Good grief.
Anyway, none of it worked, and I was feeling not so hot myself. So...well that soother was right there. What could it hurt?
Well I'll tell you what it hurt.
It hurt my BRAIN.
Several days later, he is feeling better and we've reclaimed the soother.
This has made him scream.
I have never heard a child scream so consistently and for such lengthy periods of time.
He hates me and he should. It's my fault! But ooooh the pain.
Then, today, I told Jim to bring Liam upstairs while he made supper. I would entertain the child. I could do that! I put some music on and he danced and pretended to fall which is his latest trick, and we flipped through some books and ate some chips.
Mmmmmmm, chips.
He got off the bed and ran around, then got on the bed, then got off the bed and continued this routine quite merrily while I tried not to die from exhaustion.
It was fun.
Then.
THEN.
First of all, what in the name of all that is good and riteous was that soother doing on my floor? Forget that...how'd it get into my room? Seriously. I have no idea.
So THEN, he saw it. His soother.
*JOY!*
And just as he was popping it into his tiny, o-shaped mouth, I took it away.
Ouch did that just tear your heart a little bit?
Mine, too!
And his.
I tried to talk to him about it but try reasoning with a 20 month-old.
He stood beside me and cried...no, screamed...piteously while I tried to ply him with chips and books and music.
I so wanted to just let him have it.
His eyes are SO BLUE!
But I didn't and he hates me still.
Parenting is fun.
I am so depressed.