Hand, Foot, and Mouth

Five minutes after my husband left to the airport for a three-day conference, I discovered red spot under my little one’s chin. The day prior, she’d had a fever that seemingly came out of nowhere and disappeared equally sudden. Hand, foot, and mouth disease. Perfect. We could rule out daycare for the rest of the week.

My brain was working in overdrive to find a silver lining to this situation. I was really trying hard. But my little one got more miserable by the hour. The spots became sores, and she clearly was in pain when eating or drinking. For my 9yo, it meant that we wouldn’t go on the bike I had planned after school. Instead, I outsourced him to his friends’ parents for two afternoons. And for me, well, admittedly, the timing could have been worse. I had no classes this week. I had no pressing deadlines. This week would have been the week to start new research projects. A unique time for sure, and I had been looking forward to doing no-pressure tasks. I had even dared to dream about trying my new trail bike.

Instead, this is what the first half of my week looked like. On Monday, my little one felt reasonably well. She was pretty stoked to spend a day in and around the house. I, on the other hand, was struggling to accept that I would have to put work on hold for three days. We went for a few walks. At least it was a beautiful sunny day. I tried to focus on the sunshine, and a cool shade that a fern made on a rock. We did arts and crafts, playdough, and read a ton of books. There were more meltdowns than usual, sure, but nothing too crazy.

On Tuesday, we went to Costco. Our morning was a raging success. She loved sitting in the cart and looking around. I loved doing something useful. The afternoon was a disaster though. I had been trying to stay on top of my work email during her naps. In fact, I had emergency work calls both on Monday and Tuesday during her nap time. Toggling between Zoom and the baby monitor to make sure she was still asleep. Of course, she woke up early from her nap, leaving me with a half-resolved student issue.

And of course, because she was tired, everything turned into a tantrum. The couch seemed the only space she would tolerate, as long as I read books with her. But at some point, I had to start dinner. After hours of reasoning, soothing, calming, I was at my wits end. When she swiped various ingredients off the kitchen counter, I was done. I needed her to entertain herself for 15 minutes or I was going to yell at her. So, I put her on the couch and did something my husband and I vowed not to do until she was 3yo. I turned on the tv. She was mesmerized for a few moments, then started singing along with the nursery rhymes. It worked. I finished dinner and found my sanity back at the same time. Cutting veggies without interruptions was the best part of my day by far.

When my son came home from Dutch class at 6:30pm, he sat down to play a game on his Nintendo. “Not now”, I said, “we waited for you for dinner”. He shrugged his shoulders “I’m not hungry, you packed a ton of snacks”. My little one was still glued to the couch and moving her to the table resulted in so much kicking and screaming that I put her back with her brother on the couch. The screaming started again when I tried to leave. Dinner for one on the couch it is. She snuggled up to me, watching the tv, while I tried to eat my chili.

On Wednesday, I stopped trying so hard. I made my son a lunch I knew he would find too spicy. So I just added tons of chips. I didn’t go back to Costco to pick up a few items we forgot the day before. I also did not fold the three loads of laundry I had planned to fold. Aside from having coffee at a friend’s house, I have no clue what we did all day. But I was at peace with doing nothing. Instead of fixing work problems during my toddler’s nap time, I turned on an out-of-office message. Instead of making a home cooked meal while entertaining a sick toddler, I picked up take-out. The house was a mess. I was behind on work. But we had no meltdowns (well, maybe a few). And when my son said that he was not hungry at dinner time, I shrugged my shoulders and told him he could have cold fries whenever he was hungry. He played his Nintendo while my toddler roamed around, probably pulling out all her clothes from her dresser. But I enjoyed my hot meal, at the table. Maybe next week we’ll try to be an organized family again.