Tuesday, February 26, 2013

The world's best nurse

My mom is the world's best nurse. Not in the literal, professional sense. She never made her living that way, but she should have considered that line of work. Although my mom isn't overly compassionate or affectionate, when someone is sick she shines.

She's just really good at taking care of people. Somehow it's second nature to her. It's almost as if she enjoys it. Mom was never the hug-gy type when we were little, but when were sick-- in her bed is where we'd be. She knew exactly what to do to make us feel better. Whatever we wanted or needed she did for us without complaint. When her parents and my dad's great aunt and mother were dying, she was the one who spent countless hours in nursing homes and hospitals---talking to them, feeding them, caring for them. She has the magic touch.

I wish I had an ounce of Mom's mystical abilities. Julie has been pretty sick this week. While I try to do everything for her, I can't help but think Mom would have done so much better. It's not that I don't know how to take care of my sick kids, but my mom just has a natural instinct, and seemingly endless patience when it comes to sick people. I, on the other hand, tend to get slightly annoyed with a sick patient who seems to be milking it.

I know this will sound completely heartless, but while my mom is the world's best nurse, my daugther is the world's worst patient. She's whiny. She's dramatic. She's irrational. And, sometimes it seems as if nothing can make her feel better. Since she was a tiny baby, her illnesses have been blown way out of proportion---though we didn't really realize this until we had our second child.

So, this latest affliction--basically a cold with a high fever has been no different. Yesterday Julie was hysterical because everything smelled bad. At first she blamed it on Johnny. I didn't think he smelled, but I gave both kids baths just in case. Then, she blamed it on the house. And the sofa. And the blankets. When she blamed it on me, that was it. I called Mom. "Did you smell her breath?" my mom asked. I briefly wondered where she was going with this. "She probably has strep throat. Sometimes your breath can smell really bad when you have it. That might be what she was smelling."
She was right. Her breath was awful. I had her brush her teeth and she seemed to forgot about the smell for the while. By that time, unfortunately, it was too late to go to the doctor, but that's where we'll go today.

My mom---pure genius.

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