I Need a Tissue

There is some sort of cold-esque malady going around here.   I’m not exactly sure what it is, largely because it’s not the same from person to person.   My husband has chills, his head hurts and he feels bad.   My daughter has a severely runny nose.   I have deep head congestion that clears up only when I make a very loud and ugly noise.   My son seems fine.

My daughter is getting good at blowing her nose.   She likes tissues and she uses them frequently as she has six rounds of drops every day, dabbed each time by a tissue.    Last night she came downstairs at some point during the night when I was fairly deep into sleep.    She said, “mommy, I need a tissue.  We don’t have any more in our bathroom”   I told her she could get one from our bathroom.    I heard her blow her nose several times, open the cabinet and throw the used tissue away.  

I wondered what was going to happen next, knowing the amount of assistance or comfort she would need would be based on her current mental state and tiredness.    Was she going to want to be carried up to bed?  Hand-held walked up?   Did she think she would need to be in our bed for a while before going up?   What I heard from her in her little tiny tinkling girl voice was, “I’m going back to my bed now, mom.”

Okay, I told her and promptly fell back asleep, grateful for the self reliance she had at five-years-old.  Then, later in the night she was back, needing another tissue.   I suggested she take the whole box up with her, an idea she was pleased about, and we all went back to sleep.

Today has been a big tissue-consumption day for her and her nose is now red.   Before bed tonight as she was getting settled she asked me if she could put the trash can from the bathroom beside her bed and the box of tissues on the bed with her.    I agreed it was a good idea.  Nice planning skills for a five-year-old I thought.

The Big Boy Update:  I think my son did this today.   He has an order side to him that comes out sometimes.   These are counting blocks from Christmas.   We’ve been having fun with them, but typically they’re in a bin all mixed up:

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  I came over to my husband to give him a kiss this afternoon but said I guess I’d better watch out since he was sick.   From around the corner I heard my daughter call out, “don’t think about kissing daddy.”  I heeded her advice.