Charlie sounds like a barking seal, that classic croupy wheezing complete with a case of 'cuddle-me-all-day-long' and a 102 fever.
Calvin is seal-bark-free, but has a matching fever of 102. He also has a case of 'don't-you-dare-set-me-down-or-leave-the-room'.
As a friend from the UK says "Poor sausages."
We have a doctors appointment this afternoon just to have them looked over, make sure it is nothing serious. I'm sure it's not. In fact, it seems most the times we go to the doctor, the boys are magically cured by the waiting room toys. We get into the exam room, and I forget why I even brought them. How does that work?
We are so blessed in this house to have two hearty, healthy boys. Both Charlie and Calvin seem to weather every little virus that comes their way with ease. In fact, I've begun to look at illness as immune system building opportunities, but maybe that is just the Pollyanna side of me adding a positive spin to an annoying situation.
So far today, we've watched every movie that we always watch when sickness sets in; we've had one short lived dance party (I think it was the children's Tylenol talking there); we cuddled and rocked in the "big chair"--all three of us--several times; I finally had a chance to use the bathroom and half-way change out of my jammies.
A short Charlie story. We were cuddling in the chair. Calvin was crying and crying, he was so tired. Charlie, who was wheezing and whimpering himself, began to stroke Calvin's head. The most tender, calming touch. Calvin began to fall asleep, and Charlie sat up to look at him. He kissed his cheek and held his hand until he was totally out. He let me get up to carry Calvin to his crib even though he himself needed to be held and comforted. I can't say I do a better job of putting other before myself. Charlie has such a tender heart.