When Parenting Isn’t Fun

Something about Cordelia hasn’t been right the past few days. While she’s still playing, and still throwing tantrums with just as much volume, it’s obvious to all who are close to her that something is off. On Wednesday, she took three – THREE – naps. Now, this is a child who barely takes one nap, so three immediately indicates that either she has been replaced by the fairies, or she’s not feeling well.

Other signs have been more subtle. She’s wanted to cuddle more, and while I enjoy this cuddle time, I know her status quo is normally on par with a Hell’s Angels biker in her desire to be clingy and close. She’s also gone from (non-parents, skip the remainder of this sentence and proceed to the next paragraph) hard, well-formed poop to some substance resembling peanut butter in appearance and a decomposing rodent in scent.

The verdict is that we believe she has a “virus”. What that bug is, we don’t know. This to me is one of the hardest parts of parenting. It’s clear my little girl is out-of-sorts, but we don’t really know what’s wrong and worse, we aren’t sure what to do to help her. She can’t talk yet beyond a few words, so she has no way of communicating her woes to us. She doesn’t seem ill enough to waste a trip to the emergency room or urgent care. Anyone else have a child suffer from what can best be described as a mediocre virus? How do you know when it’s time to pester the pediatrician?

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