The little things in life

My son has a cold and for those out there with children you know exactly what that means.  For those of you with out children it means sleepless nights and tired out days and yet still you must do what needs to be done.  So the other night I put my son to bed at around 8:30 I had given him his allergy medicine and his cough syrup and rubbed vicks on his chest.  He seemed to be cleared for landing into dream land which meant I could straighten the house, take a shower, and go cuddle up with my husband for a long nap.  I had just closed my eyes when they were popped back open by the sound of body racking coughs.  I told myself he was just switching positions and he would be fine if I just gave him a minute.  A minute passed and then two and the coughing was still present.  My husband who was sleep beside me nudged my arm “Honey, He’s  coughing” he said.  Duh!  I knew that already.  I get up and look at the clock it is 1 am.  I figure that maybe the cough syrup needed to be re-administered so I gave him  another dose.  I lay down beside him and held him as his coughing fits seem to make his small body move as if jumping.  I waited hoping that the medicine and a mothers touch was all that was needed.  Three hrs later my son was still awake and still coughing.  His body was starting to ache and my patience level was dwindling.  I said a silent prayer “Father please allow him to rest tonight!”  The cough persisted.  I threw everything I had at it.  It was like a war zone.  A war against the common allergies and cold.  My soldier was pooped out and I alone had to find a way to plant my flag on the top of the mountain.  I made soup at 4 am it had potatoes and onions( my mother recipe) and I added garlic and black pepper.  These ingredients are known for their medicinal effects.  I gave him a dose of Echinacea and golden seal.  I even rubbed vaporub on his feet(something I found on the internet).  Nothing worked.  The cough was making a monkey out of me.  I was tired.  My son was tired.  We were at our wits end.  Then just when I had given up, I got an idea.  We moved from the bedroom to the family room.  I told him that he would have to sleep on the arm of the chair. He laid his head on the arm of the chair and we waited.  We waited but the fits did not return like when he lay raised in his bed.  He was sitting almost straight up on the sofa but he was sleep.  I sat on the other side the same way I told him to sleep and watched him to make sure just for a little while.  It was 5:23 when I finally closed my eyes in blissful slumber.

I thank God for arm chairs today.  Something I would never have thought to be thankful for, I once again see that little things can hold great significance.


~ by adjoapacheco on March 27, 2010.

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