Saturday evening Eli didn't eat much supper. At bedtime he had a fever, and that lasted a couple of days. By Tuesday it seemed to be just a cold, yet he was coughing and lethargic, so I'm keeping him home from school one more day. It makes for a looooooong week. Brian is out of town for work, so there isn't even the rhythm of Hubby/Papa homecoming every night nor is there adult conversation in the evening. The days have quickly taken on a sleepy, loose flow.
Since this illness doesn't have harsh symptoms and he is slowly getting better, I don't have to be full of worry. This isn't like it was in January of 2010, crawling around on the floor after dehydrated baby Eli, poking a medicine-dropper of lukewarm water in his mouth every few minutes while praying he'd keep it down this time. (The washing machine chugged constantly and I hauled his mattress into the garage on that rainy day to see if a fan could dry the huge scrubbed spot in time for nap. It didn't.)
This illness has largely coincided with a cold snap of gray, blustery weather, and thus it isn't so bad being indoors. Sometimes days like these are long-remembered for their plodding peace, all-day-long jammies, and snuggles.
The hours are measured by DVD length -- Cars, Over the Hedge, Madagascar, and other animated movies with celebrity voiceovers. Or sleepy Eli reverts to the wee tot familiarity of Thomas the Tank Engine. I keep humming The Magic Schoolbus theme song because I hear it so often. Eli's old Waldorf preschool teacher would be appalled at all the screen time, but Little Guy isn't interested in toys or puzzles or books or helping with Mama tasks right now. We sit squished up together on the sofa in front of the television while I read or sort through photos on my computer.
Each day I look forward to the chilly walk to the mailbox, breathing in deep gulps of fresh air. Back inside, when I can't sit still anymore, I clean. With Eli all but an immobile lump, the house is rather tidy despite days of continuous occupation. Wiping up the bagel crumbs and putting away the untouched fruit gives way to deep-cleaning the bathroom. I even took apart the U-bend, cleaning the pipes so the sink finally drains properly. For a little while, cabin fever gives way to feeling pleased that my homeowner skills haven't completely languished during our renting days.
Today, Eli also shows signs of cabin fever energy. Although breakfast was only a bite or two, he was soon shooting marbles across the kitchen linoleum. It didn't last long. He's back on the sofa. But it did happen.
It puts me in mind of a week when I was in the third grade. My brother (two years older) and I both got sick -- at the same time that my mother pulled jury duty. The judge wouldn't let her off, so she'd leave us each morning with piles of pillows, lukewarm ginger ale, and the television tuned to The Price is Right. (It was the days before remote controls, so when the soap operas came on, one of us would have to slither out from under warm blankets to try one of the other three channels.) The first day or so was sleepy and sluggish, but before long we were feeling better. Then it was like a party, the whole house to ourselves while our friends were slogging away in school. A little stolen time.
Many thanks to Robby for a cheerful phone call this morning and to Sarah for offering to pick up groceries! (We're stocked, but I truly appreciate the gesture.)