Now that I have been home all day today helping Preston get through a nasty bout with the stomach flu, I know that the moaning and groaning gene has been passed down from father to son.
Each time Preston sees me walk by, he looks right at me and lets out a big dramatic moan followed by a low drawn-out groan.
Last night Preston was worried that he may be dying. Chris also thinks he is dying when he is sick. Preston’s reason for thinking he may be knocking on death’s door was really sad. He said that before our dog Sagie died, she was also throwing up a lot.
It is interesting because all of my girls had a version of this stomach flu last week and it wasn’t nearly the drama storm that today has been with Preston.
Ava told me her stomach REALLY hurt 10 times before she went to school. By the time she got home, she wasn’t complaining about it anymore. I believe I have only seen Ava throw up once in her life.
When Elsa is sick she gets this look of total despair on her face and she keeps it throughout most of the illness. The great thing about sick Elsa is that she would never dream of throwing up all over the carpet. When she was 3-years-old she threw up ever so quietly into her barf bowl all by herself. I came upstairs to find her just sitting on her bed quietly holding a bowl of barf in her lap.
When Violet is sick she either wants to go to bed or take a bath. End of story.
Oh but Preston is another story. When Preston is sick he wants me to hold his hand and rub his back. He wants me to make sure his beverage is filled. He doesn’t want me to stray far from him or he will say, “I want somebody to come sit right next to me.” He wants a steady stream of Ninjago videos playing for comfort.
When Preston barfs or has diarhhea, he does not concern himself about whether he makes it to the toilet. He will throw up on the carpet, bed or couch. He will usually not throw-up in his designated barf bowl.
Preston is a super high maintenance sick guy.
But because he is the only boy-child in the house, he is a bit coddled by the women when he is sick. Ava was up at 6:30 reading him Ninjago stories and rubbing his legs for him. The first thing Elsa wanted to know when she woke up was how her brother was feeling. I was up most of the night catering to Preston’s every need and making sure he was comfortable. Violet pretty much didn’t give a shit. She is a sporadic sympathizer.
Today really made me realize that the girls in this house are a whole lot easier than the boys when they are ill. The girls complain and moan less. They require less care. They are tough. I have a feeling it may be this way in a lot of households around the world.
Until next time, the mothership is signing off.