It's Monday morning, and it's the start of a new week after a very looong weekend. My poor little Fidget is sick! She woke up Friday morning with a bit of a chest cough, but was otherwise in good spirits. Saturday morning I knew as soon as I got her up that she was worse. She was still happy, but when she tried to say "I love you Mommy" and it came out "I luboo bomby" I knew. By Saturday afternoon she had a low fever and her good mood had vanished. And yesterday she was a little bit worse. Whereas I only had to use the bulb syringe to suck snot out of Maron's nose once on Saturday I had to do it multiple times yesterday afternoon and evening.
Marida has been a trooper through this. She woke up yesterday with the same racking chest cough Maron had on Friday. So I was sure Marida would be a ball of snot when I got her up this morning, but so far it's still just the cough. We'll see how long she can hold out.

It's so hard seeing my children sick. There is no point in my life where I feel more helpless and ineffectual as a parent as I do when Maron has a cold. She doesn't feel good and she doesn't understand why, and there is nothing I can do for her other than give her children's Tylenol for the fever and suck snot out of her nose (which I have to bodily restrain her to do because she doesn't understand that either). It's so frustrating and ironic that something as simple as a cold, which most adults barely think twice about, can emotionally cripple you as a mom to young children and babies.