During my pregnancy with my sweet baby, I could not stand physical contact. Handholding, hugs, touch of any sort were entirely out of the question. (My poor husband)!
Over the 22 months I have been acquainted with my youngest, the reason has become obvious. The child does not do well with touching. When we took the boys and their cousins to Sears for that disastrous photo shoot, part of the reason for the disaster was because the photographer insisted on the children touching.
"Put your arm around Nathaniel."
"Give Nathaniel a hug."
Screech, this time with an arched back.
"Hold Nathaniel's hand."
Absolute hysteria. We had to calm him down with YoGos. (YoGos have no nutritional value whatsoever, but are useful for bribery).
The child does not like hugs and you can just forget about kisses. If he wakes up in the middle of the night and wants to be held, what he really wants is to sit in my lap, back perfectly straight, leaning back only by accident. I get love only a) on hos terms or b) when he's super tired.
Which brings me to the vomiting. I woke Nathaniel up from his (3+) hour nap to take Benton to Cubbies on Wednesday night. We got as far as getting the van closed an locked before he last his lunch. We were already running late, so I quickly changed his shirt, scooped him up and ran Benton inside. While there I got to talking with one of the other moms (who had a really lousy week with her darlings). Once I finally decided I had better run or risk another round of barf, this time on the church carpet, I took off. Only to have another round of barf, this time on the church carpet. In his defense, he got most of it on the two of us, but the carpet may never be the same again. We cleaned up and headed home.
It turned out those cheeks were so rosy not just from the nap, but also the 102 degree temperature. It also turned out that the only thing that helped him feel better was Mommy. And better yet, snuggling with Mommy. For the first time in ages, I got to curl up on the couch with a baby sleeping on me (with a towel between us). It was pure bliss.
I would give anything to stop his little body from hurting, but oh, the snuggles! Also, since he's sick, I don't feel even a little bit guilty holding him all day long and neglecting things like laundry.
Benton loves it too. My policy is "if one of us is sick, we're all sick." We all revert to jammies wearing and cartoon watching and story reading and cuddling on the couch. It makes me think life should always be a sick day (minus the sickness). It's an excuse to slow down and soak up the things that are most important--each other.
I am confidant that once Nathaniel is over this little germ-y catastrophe, he'll go back to his normal happy , energetic, don't-touch-me self, but until then, bring on the love!