It was the familiar and hated sound of that croup cough that woke me from sleep Friday night. You know, the one you can hear from three rooms away and strikes terror into the heart of a mother whose brain is still asleep. First let me tell everyone, my kids do croup. It's like a talent or something. They can acquire and present the croup with true aplomb. To wit; I have had a couple trips to emergency rooms in the wee hours because of the aforementioned virus. So in all my years as the mother of croup talented children I've learned a few tricks and I have been conditioned for battle.
My first act of business (after putting on some sort of clothing that I can be seen in should I encounter another mid-night owl) is to bundle up the poor child. While I inevitably spend a few moments searching for shoes, blankets and coats I always manage to protect my child from the elements enough to brave the cold outside (the colder the better in this case) and we make our way to the porch chairs. If you ever get a hankering at 3 am to run past my house, you may get a glimpse of me on the dark porch, cradling a large bundle of blankets in my arms. I can assure you that in this pile of blankets is an actual child whose only body part that is exposed to the elements is his/her mouth. I encourage the child to breath as deeply as possible and voila! the discomfort eases. This ritual typically takes 20 minutes to undergo and I have found it most helpful in the battle against croup.
However, it's never over! Without fail there will be another bout sometime after 60-90 minutes. It's at that point I'm just too stinking tired to cloak up, bundle and sit outside so I choose my second weapon- the steamy shower. This is where I am grateful for Stupid Big.
If anyone's seen my shower, you know what I'm talking about. The builder of my home thought it would be a great idea to put in a HUGE shower in the Master Bedroom. I'm not exaggerating when I say HUGE! (It has 6 shower heads). I have always called my shower (with affection) Stupid Big. I mean, I'm not a swinger so there will never be a gathering of people in my shower!
I have found a reason to be grateful for Stupid Big though and I am always reminded of that on the battle nights of croup. In my shower, I am able to make a bed, pillows and all, to make my child comfortable while the water runs just out of reach of the blankets and fills the "room" with the blessed steam. With the lights turned out, my child can sleep and breath in steam without too much discomfort. It has been several nights when I've sat in the humid interior of the shower that I have been grateful for this little blessing.
So here's to Stupid Big, the shower that is a pain to clean and an embarrassment to think of, I am grateful for your usefulness in the comfort of my children!
3 comments:
The croup thing must come through our line, we battle with it constantly too. We definitely do the porch thing (during the 15% of the year it's actually cold enough in Vegas to help). I've been known to stick a kid's head in the freezer when we were desperate! We also do the bed in the bathroom - although a bed in Stupid Big sounds awesome. My kids would probably never want to come out. We finally got into a Pediatric Pulmonologist for Tommy and he ordered us a nebulizer with a big stock of steroids to have at home - all I can say is HEAVEN!!!
Morgan use to always get croup. We would sit on the bathroom floor and she and I would fall asleep together. It always worked. Love the warm shower steem.
We haven't ever dealt with croup... but if we ever do I'm glad to have this line of defense up my sleeve of tricks... if only we had our own Stupid Big! (Love the name... and I have to say, I think I'd love multiple shower heads spraying water from different directions... no swinging necessary to enjoy Stupid Big!)
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