No More Coughing Under Penalty of Law

I spend so much time in these lines on the latest misadventures of Little B…it’s time to cut the kid a break, already.

Little A decided to develop some heinous coughing condition (don’t worry, I’m pretty sure it’s not tuberculosis, though you’d never really no that during a fit at 3:00 a.m.) over the weekend.  Sunday night, she coughed her poor little blonde wavy haired head off.  It was disturbing, the sounds that were coming out of that lilac bedroom.  I finally could stand it no longer, and since all the pharmaceutical industry had to offer had already been doled out to her in handfuls, there was nothing else to do but to hold her sleepy little body up so that she’d be less likely to have a drippy cough thing going on.  In a rare fit of selfless motherhoodism, I voluntarily got up out of bed at 11:00 p.m. and set up shop in the recliner in the den.  I gathered the 3 a.m. dose of meds, the breathing treatment apparati, a box of tissues, my cup of water, another cup of water for Little A (because she might want mine and I’m just not into having little germ ridden children sipping out of my cup.  Big E took a sip of my water the other day and I told him that if I was interested in drinking after mucus infested children that I’d do away with cups and plates altogether and we’d just eat and drink from a ginormous trough in the dining room…), and my cell phone set with an alarm to wake me up in time Monday morning to get the school and work week started.  (Little did I know I’d DEFINITELY NOT need an alarm to get up…)

I picked my germy, coughing angel up out of her bed and carried her to the den.  I had forgotten a blanket.  I had to put her down (because she weighs like 800 pounds dead asleep) and go get a blanket real quick.  She shot up out of the chair and looked at me in the darkness, letting her eyes adjust and then asked, “Mom, what are you doing?”  I know, I know.  Even the 4 year old knows this is WAY out of character for me.  I explained what was going on, and told her to hang loose for one sec while I grabbed the blanket.  She complied.

 We tried to get comfortable and I gave her a breathing treatment.  We dozed off for a bit and then the coughing started up.  Then we got sweaty from one another and I had to move her off of me to turn on the fan and throw the blanket on the floor.  Then I had to get the blanket back because the fan and the sweat made us cold.  Then it was time for the 3 a.m. dose of meds.  Then she needed another breathing treatment at 4:30 as evidenced by the hacking fit that ensued promptly at that time.  When my alarm went off at 6, I was already wide awake and trying to get the kinks out of my neck because I had dozed off for an hour with my neck in the same position you would imagine you’d find that of a mummy stuffed in a decorative vase for several thousand years.  

{Insert mummy photo here}

{Omigod, delete mummy photo…it’s just too freakin’ creepy.}

{I can’t get the creepy mummy photo out of my head.  Do.  Something!}

Yeah, that's better. Phew.

I was so stiff, sore and tired that I drug my body around my office all day, and couldn’t imagine anything better than climbing into my down-alternative stuffed bed and never ever getting out of it. 

Last night at 8:30, I could stand it no longer.  I announced to each and every member of the Zohrfamily that I was retiring to the boudoir for the evening, and dared anyone to come and bother me.   I made an exception for goodnight hugs and kisses from the little ones.  When Little A finished her pre-bedtime breathing treatment, she came in to tell me goodnight.  I gave her a stern warning:  NO COUGHING, TONIGHT!  IF YOU COUGH ALL NIGHT, YOU ARE GOING TO BE IN BIG BIG TROUBLE.  She looked at me sullenly and said, “okay.”  About an hour later, she sulked into my room to announce that she had tried really hard not to cough, but that it was “too strong” and she couldn’t help it.  She had coughed.  “Okay,” I told her.  “Go back to bed and try harder next time.”  “okay.”

This morning, after a glorious night of actual sleep, I went to wake her up for school with my usual, “Get up, La La!  It’s time for school!”  and she did her usual burial of her head further under the covers in disgust.  “Did you sleep good, La La?”  “NO!  I coughed and coughed and coughed and you didn’t even hear me and I’m not in trouble.”  “Oh, yes you are!”  I sang back.  I continued to sing and made up a song about how “La La” couldn’t play all week because she was punished because she coughed and she giggled all morning about it.  I didn’t think it was funny one bit.  I was damn serious about it.  She didn’t care.  She just laughed and laughed and laughed.  No one takes me seriously.  No one.

Omg. How freaking cute is THAT? Mummy? What mummy?


About zohrbak

Zohrbak is an old email username I had a while's a made-up twist on two characters from Spaceghost. Zorak and Brak. I'm a geek. I am a married, working mother of 4 children, ages 4-15. I also have interests outside of my children, but I can never remember what they are.
This entry was posted in bad kids, Bad mother, Blogging., crazy kids, Family, Parenthood, The Joys of Parenthood and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to No More Coughing Under Penalty of Law

  1. Nanan says:

    Try vick’s salve on the bottom of the feet and a pair of socks- seems to help stop the coughing. Great Granny’s, grandmothers, etc,. have used this as an answer for that thru the years– sleep well

  2. Zohrmom says:

    Please try the Vicks salve. I cannot stand not knowing if it actually works and I would rather you do it than me in case it doesn’t. LOL

  3. Zohrmom says:

    Oh and thanks for giving Little B a break…

  4. That last little dog is quite possibly the funniest looking thing I’ve ever seen… in a cute dust mop kinda way. And it’s ok… Gabe doesn’t take me seriously, either. He’s not even two yet. I think he might be winning. =\

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