Much has been made here in this weblog about illness. Without a doubt, the past year I have been more chronically ill with this and that nagging virus and bacteria than ever before. You can’t blame it all on the typical culprits such as compromised water, as Kaia’s entry into school has opened our home to the host of necessary childhood illnesses. But whatever the source of infection, being sick has made parenting here very challenging. I have come to expect being sick every 3 weeks or so--just last week I was wondering when the next wave was going to hit our family—and, unfortunately, something always comes around, just like clockwork. The most recent unwanted visitor was an intense gastro-intestinal attack that (literally) uncomfortably close to the symptoms of cholera. The fact that it lasted for nearly four full days told me that it wasn’t the typically food poisoning, and the fact that I couldn’t leave the house because I was ‘incapacitated’ every 15-20 minutes, well that told me that this was going to be a painful ride. Indeed it was, regardless if it brought me closer to one of my favorite novels ever.
There are a few things that I am quite certain that I will not miss when I leave here: the frequency of stomach problems, power surges and cuts that fry electronic devices, our leaking air conditioner that makes the bedroom marble floor a major hazard, and mosquitoes—make that, MOSQUITOES. You could probably add to that, indiamama’s long business trips, and you would have had the perfect storm of a nightmare evening the other night. I wont waste time describing it—indeed I’d like to just forget it—but you can imagine how it was with my condition and her being away in
When I’m sick I often find myself resorting to parenting in a way that I don’t really like—more ‘nos’ and ‘don’t do that’ than I prefer to say. This time around, because I was feeling so crappy, I had to lean on empty threats to try to keep peace. This of course, meant bringing out the ‘clown’. I think I have written about this before, but Kaia has been deathly afraid of clowns ever since he saw these dwarfs dressed up as clowns in a nearby amusement park. By my standards they were pretty scary too and since they were so short, he could really see them at eye level. When one came bounding up to him, he freaked out like I’ve never really seen before. Anyway, about a month ago, we discovered that the “if you don’t (fill in the blank), then the clown will come” works wonders and moves mountains. Usually this form of short-term reward parenting is used in times like leaving places when he doesn’t want to or when he is being very difficult, but it must be used very sparingly for obvious reasons. Since I’ve been sick, however, I’ve probably leaned on it more than I should be…truth be told, it is a perversely wicked little trick that can turn his mood in a heartbeat—from screaming on the ground because he wants to drink juice out of the bottle to sitting up and gripping me tight in silence, whimpering “no clown come, no clown come.” I know that he’s going to hate me for it down the line.
Why I Love this Time: “So funny papa, that’s so funny.”
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