Day8: The Weeping Sickness is subsiding, replaced by extreme irritation and malaise. The adults find ourselves yelling “no” with alarming frequency, typically directed at the 2 year old. It is estimated that out of every 100 words uttered, a minimum of 65% are variations of “no” or “don’t.” The 2 year old has responded by intervals of shrieking incomprehensibly alternated with some kind of full-body fit during which she throws herself violently on the floor, arches her back, kicks her feet, and screams.
Day 9: Clear liquid is now spewing forth from the 2 year old’s nose. Her humor has also deteriorated. In an unfair twist of fate, it seems she has become ill after avoiding it for so long. The trick now is to quarantine the 2 year old from the newborn. The problem? The 2 year old wants mommy and mommy is the only one that can feed the newborn. Mommy is not a planaria and therefore cannot bifurcate and regenerate. Daddy is repelled by the 2 year old when he attempts to soothe her, resulting in feelings of rejection by him and outrage by her that anyone but mommy would attempt to intervene. Mommy feels guilty. The night is long.
Day 10: After a night during which no one but the newborn slept, the day dawns to yet more mucous flowing from the 2 year old’s nose. All attempts to medicate her have been soundly rebuffed. Daddy has gone to the pharmacy to attempt new and exciting varieties of medicines to no avail. In desperation, the adults gang up on the 2 year old and attempt to manually restrain her while syringing a dose of the medication into her mouth. Even with nostril pinching and jaws clamping, the 2 year old manages to eject almost every molecule of medicine and then run screaming through the house leaving a trail of Berry Blast blue liquid. The adults gave up and renamed that dosage technique “waterboarding with Mucinex.”
Day 11: After a better night’s sleep, the day proceeds somewhat more smoothly. The 2 year old is taken on an outing to a local retail establishment. All was well until departure was attempted. At this point, a tantrum ensued and the caregiver’s back suffered a minor injury. No further casualties were suffered until nightfall, where once again sleep proves elusive to the 2 year old and therefore the other occupants of the house.
Day 12: More mucous, more rain.
Day13: Whether a function of the cabin fever, the loss of sleep, or the erosion of brain matter due to the frequency of the 2 year old’s whining, the Weeping Sickness returns. Each day feels like the one before it. Now the newborn is congested. Shit.
Day 14: Whether a function of the cabin fever, the loss of sleep, or the erosion of brain matter due to the frequency of the 2 year old’s whining, the Weeping Sickness returns. Each day feels like the one before it. Oh wait. Today is a follow-up appointment at the OB for an incision check. What’s this bright light? Why does the air feel so….fresh? Is this what “outside” is?!