*My very first nanny job was for two girls. They were both a complete joy to work with. When the older girl got sick, though, something happened to her. Ordinarily, she was a sweet girl, but when she was sick, she was sweet times ten! If I got her some juice, she would gush, "Oh, thank you so much! You take such good care of me!" If I gave her some medicine, she would gush, "Thank you! I'm sure this will make me feel better! You are so nice!" I'm not saying I wanted her to get sick, but when she did, I certainly didn't mind the affection and appreciation.
We have been lucky. Dylan really hasn't been sick that much in his first 3 years of life. But, he is sick now. He has been sick since Monday, with a stuffed up nose, fever, and a bad cough. And, I have been reminded of that sweet little sick girl. Oh, the sweetness. The affection that I don't normally get, unless I wrestle him to the ground and smother him in kisses. I really, really want him to get better quickly, but while it lasts, I am soaking it up.
When he coughs, it sounds horrible. I must be looking at him with that "Oh, my poor baby!" look. He keeps saying, "Mommy, are you sad?" One time, I said, "No Dylan, I'm happy. I'm just a little sad because you are sick". He smiled weakly, coughed a few times, then said, "It's okay. I feel better". He's worried about me! Wanting to make sure I am happy!
*Dylan is a very curious little boy. He is always learning. Always asking questions... "What are you doing?"... "What is that?"... "What does that mean?"... "Where are you going?"... "What are you saying?" I am a questioner, also. My best friend in high school used to ask me, "How did you find out all that about x?" My answer was always the same - "I just know the right questions to ask". Asking questions is a good thing, in my book. Today, however, I learned that being a questioning sort of kid, does come with a few drawbacks.
I was going to the bathroom, when Dylan walked in. He usually will ask me what I'm doing. "Are you peeing or pooping?" I'm used to that question. Today, he threw a new one into the mix. "Mommy, why do you have hair... down there?" I think I stopped peeing mid-stream! I started to stammer like a child. But, having just read Jenn's post about having honest conversations with your children about these sorts of things, I figured I better act like a grown up. "Uh, well, because I'm a girl, and girls have hair there". He interrupted to say, "Daddy is a boy. He doesn't have hair there?" Well...just...crap, I thought to myself. "Uh.. well, he does have hair there, but he also has a willy (what he calls it) or a penis". Even as I was saying the word "penis", I was thinking "the kid's at preschool are going to learn a new word". "I don't have hair there". "No, but when you get older, you will". He stood there thinking this over for a few seconds, then asked, "Can I see your hair again?" "Um... I... well... why don't we have a cookie?" I am a child. I'm going to have to make a trip to the book store, because I am just not prepared for this.
(*After writing this, Jim came home, and Dylan told him "Boys have Peanuts!! (a penis)" I am going to have to apologize to his teachers when all the kids go home saying "Boys have Peanuts!!", aren't I?)