Every child has a different sense of empathy and sympathy. Having three kids with a mix of boys and girl, I'm able to see how my daughter and sons behave and question: Is this a girl thing? a boy thing? or a birth order thing? I have 3 kids and they all have different responses to when Mommy isn't feeling well and wants to rest on the couch with her feet up. Kids being kids though they can only be on their best behavior for so long. Here is a typical progression of their own responses and their responses when they are with their siblings when mommy is sick:
Sunshine, she is 7 years old: With concern in her eyes, she will come up to me and ask if I am ok. She will proceed to get me a glass of water, and a snack for me if I were to ask. She will sit next to me on the very edge of the couch so she doesn't disturb me. She will proceed to do the very motherly act of caressing my cheeks or hair and make sure I'm comfortable.
Monkey, he is 5 years old: He will see Sunshine over by me, come over and ask me if I am ok. He will also get me a glass of water. Sunshine will tell him, "No, she already has some." He will ask if I am cold or not and will proceed to get me his special blanket, his pillow, and one or more of his special stuff animals. He will cover me up, put the pillow under my head and crawl under the blanket and cuddle with me. He will then wiggle his feet and toes back and forth under the blanket.
Bug, he is 2 years old: I am now lying down on the couch and cuddling with Monkey. He has taken this as an invitation to also cuddle with me. He crawls up on me, cuddles for about 5 seconds, and decides that it is much more fun to use me as a stepping stone to get to the back of the couch. He will slide down from the back of the couch and land on my legs and stand there, rocking back and forth, watching TV (use TV to distract the kids while you rest). When I tell him not to do this, he will walk along the length of my body, using my thigh, hip, side, and head/face as a balance beam. The best way for him to turn will be for him to stand on my cheek and hair. He will also decide my side is an awesome horse and will bounce on my side.
At this point, Sunshine has seen the commotion, she pushes Bug out of the way and lays down with me as well. Sunshine and Monkey proceed to argue and push each other back and forth trying to get the best view of the TV which has now become my enemy. One of them has decided to give and is now laying behind my knees, using my butt as a pillow. Bug, the one who needs the most supervision, is now standing 2' from the television. He will become distracted in a few minutes and I will then have to get up to go chase after him as I realize someone left markers on the kitchen table and the gate to the upstairs was never closed.
I drag my sick self up off the couch go chase down Bug and find him in the kids' bathroom with his brother's toothbrush in the toilet. When he sees my, he promptly shoves the toothbrush in his mouth and then cries when I yank the nasty thing from his grasp. The crying and toilet water leads to drooling and a snotty nose, he realizes the best towel is my clothes and am now covered in toilet water drool and boogers.
With soiled toothbrush in hand, to be disposed of downstairs where Bug will not dig it out of the bathroom garbage, I head downstairs. When I get there I find Sunshine laying on Monkey's pillow and blanket and the two of them arguing. They are both holding a bag of fruit chews and as soon as they see me, they ask if they may eat the said fruit chews. When told no, they continue to fight and tell me every single detail that has happened while I were away for 3 minutes upstairs.
I take the fruit chews from them and as I walk past the kitchen table I look at the kitchen table. Sure enough, Bug got ahold of one of the markers and decided he needed to show his creative side on the table. I thank God and Crayola for washable markers and wash off his masterpiece.
It is now 4:30 and dinner needs to be cooked. I take some Advil and call Hubby to see what time he's going to be home.
And this is the reason why I can't rest when I'm sick.
True story.
Vicky
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