In addition to warm memories and handmade presents, we brought a little stomach bug back from the cabin. Sam picked something up from his little cousin and has been sick in bed with a fever all day. As much as I wish him well as soon as possible, I can't help but savor the quiet snuggles and slow pace of the day. "Do you want me to hold you?" I ask as he stirs and wakes, a pained look on his face. "Hold you," he affirms, and I wrap him up and we rock quietly as he falls back asleep. Sometimes he tells me "sick" or "boo boo," and other times he heartbreakingly asks me to kiss the boo boo. If only mama kisses were as effective on viruses as on goose eggs and skinned knees. But, I'm open to the idea of a certain amount of healing power in a mother's kiss and so I oblige him and kiss his feverish head and his upset tummy.
Mostly we just let illnesses run their course. We bundle up and resign ourselves to a day or two in bed with some good books. Even Sam understands the drill and will sit quietly on his bed, turning the pages of picture books. We drink tea (lemon and ginger for upset tummies, Sleepy Time for comfort), and use various oils according to the symptoms. Sometimes Sam will even ask for oil or for a "rub," and as I rub his little feet he drifts peacefully back to sleep.
A couple days into the illness, after Sam's numerous requests to be held had started to be felt in my back, I remembered the Moby. With Sam becoming so independent these days it's sat idle in the back of my closet. But it was the perfect thing for a tired, sick boy and his mama who has nervously watched the laundry and dishes pile up around her. He instantly relaxed and laid his head on my chest while I made dinner, did the dishes and folded laundry. These are good days; despite the sickness and the mounting household chores, I'm tucking away in my memory the many hours spent snuggled up, nursing, holding, rocking and loving my little one.
