Adventures Of Fatherhood

Sneaking up and scaring me when the opportunity arises is Beckett’s favorite new thing.

Some sort of scare attempt is usually how we start the day around the house. Usually, I am up already and Beckett tries to quietly come downstairs and surprise me. Most of the time I hear him but fake that he scared me.

There are other times when he really does get me. That was the case the other morning when I went into his room to wake him up to start getting him ready for school. He was not in his bed so I went to look in the bathroom and he was nowhere to be found. When I came back into his room, he sprang out of his closet. He got me good. When I instinctively put my hand over my chest (I know, not exactly a masculine moment), he immediately wondered if something was the matter with my heart. I assured him it was not.

However, it did not appear his concern stuck around, as the next morning he snuck into the bathroom while I was in the shower. He did a masterful job apparently of being quiet because I had no idea he was in the room until I opened the shower door to find him standing in front of me with my phone snapping photos. He managed to take about 14 photos of me in various states of naked shock that I had to immediately delete.

It was 5:40 in the morning.

A cruel stomach bug swept through our house this week.

While all that comes with that is never enjoyable, it did further confirm to me how tough and resilient our little boys are at such young ages. They both made me so proud.

Carson was the first to show symptoms sometime over the weekend. Amazingly, other than the obvious signs that come with this sort of virus that do not need to be detailed here, he was his typical self and seemed not to be fazed by the fact he had to be feeling miserable.

At one point over the weekend, I was going to Beckett to the playground for a while, assuming Carson would stay home because he was under the weather. He would have no parts of it. He did not want to be left behind.

Rather than stay home, he came along, but at one point he was just lying alone flat on his back looking up at the sky. I loved his will and spirit to not be left out.

Beckett was struck with the same virus while at day care on Tuesday afternoon. He didn’t seem to care much about getting sick. It was the fact we had planned to go sledding that afternoon that was truly bothering him. In between several puking bouts, he would say, “I’m really fine. I can still sled while I am puking. It’s no big deal. Let’s go before it gets dark.”

Ten minutes later, he was asleep and curled in the fetal position on the couch.

Earlier that morning, Pam started feeling the effects of the virus. By that afternoon, it had hit me with all its might as well. That meant we were one miserable house with the only one feeling well at that point being Carson, who went down first with the bug a few days before. It got so bad I needed to call in my mom to care for Carson because Pam, Beckett and I were in a pathetic state.

That night, I slept in Beckett’s room. It was not really intentional. Pam said she would sleep with him to make sure he was okay overnight. Because he was sound asleep, he had to be carried upstairs to bed. It took every ounce of energy I had to carry that out.

As a result, I just collapsed alongside him in his bed. When Pam came in to take my place, I have no idea what I said, but I know what I was thinking. I was not moving. It was 8 p.m. at that point.

Around 1 in the morning, Beckett woke me up, saying he was thirsty. At that point, I had already gotten a full night’s sleep so I went downstairs to get us some drinks, only to find the geriatric dog of the house (our 15-year-old yellow lab named Fletch) had a major accident all over the floor. That was not exactly one of my happier moments as you might imagine.

When I returned with the drinks, Beckett jumped out of his closest to try and scare me. At that point, with my nerves pretty much shot over the mess the dog made downstairs and dehydration setting in, it didn’t have the effect he had hoped. It was amazing to me how much better he was feeling already, as we sat in his bed and talked.

Although I was thinking about whether he was up for school, I hadn’t actually mentioned it to him yet. I didn’t have to because he brought it up. He asked me if I had to go to work the next day even if I was sick. I said I did, and he immediately said he was fine now and needed to go to school because he had rehearsal for his Grandparents Day program on Friday.

I was so proud of him for wanting to persevere, but we went back to bed agreeing we would see how he felt when he woke up that morning. Somehow, he was up at 6 the next morning and feeling just fine. By 7 in the morning, he was bouncing off the walls, leading us to the conclusion he was fine for school.

I have always known my boys were tough, but I really admired the way they handled this illness. In fact, they coped with it better than their parents.