Sick house

My house is a sick house. Zoey caught a cold from somewhere, and it morphed into strep throat. She kindly passed it on to both me and Trey, and we are all feeling quite less than perfect. Zoey has been sick since Sunday; her nose is constantly runny and she has an awful sounding cough. I took her to the doctor on Tuesday because I was worried all that congestion would give her an ear infection. Instead, the diagnosis was strep throat. Yuch. But it explained why she didn’t want to eat and why she kept saying, “hurt!”

She’s at such an awkward stage of development. She can say so much—she talks constantly—but it’s still so hard for her to tell me what’s wrong. I try to get her to tell me where it hurts, so I can try and do something to salve the pain. It also doesn’t help that one of her current games consists of her randomly saying “hurt,” and when I ask, “where does it hurt?” she says, “hurt sock,” or “hurt shoe,” or “hurt shirt.” Sometimes, she’ll plop down on her knees and say, “are you okay?” So at this time, I’m sometimes not really sure that she really hurts, or is just playing her little game.

So it’s been a rough week, compounded by the fact that my sick little girl wants no one else but me around her right now. I’ve had to watch hours of kids tv, play hours of blocks (“you do it, mommy”), held and comforted and held some more. And then I got sick, which made everything that much more miserable. Yet I still play and hold and comfort. Fortunately, Zoey’s on the mend, and I’m on Dayquil, which is pretty good stuff. I just hope I don’t get the strep throat.