When Koehler kids get sick, they don't sleep; when Koehler dad's - being one - get stressed, they don't sleep. Where does Koehler momma fit into this? Cranky-land that's where!
This week Julian developed a cough that sounded like a barking seal. For parents out there you probably already guessed Croup. Yes, croup - that antiquated illness that isn't supposed to be hanging around society anymore. The illness that swells up your neck area - under your chin but above your chest. When you breathe in, you rasp; when you cough, you bark; and you struggle to go about the day normally. Well, this was treated with steam from the shower, cold air from the freezer, and a steroid from the doctor.
The not-sleeping really happens in the early morning hours. 4ish/5ish. Julian is uncomfortable and starts to cry and cough. Since he shares a room, Christian wakes up. And Dan is already up working on his next lecture. So I lay there in denial saying it's all just a bad dream.
But today I got them up and went back to 'snooze.' Dan remained in the back and I parented by listening. Christian and Julian began to push cars up and down the hallway. At one point, I looked up from my pillow and saw Christian pushing Julian, who was standing in his red wagon both smiling. I immediately got up to prevent disaster, but also started laughing hysterically on the inside. It was such an endearing picture of childhood sibling relationships as well as imagination ordering the day.
My thoughts were swept back to my grade school days when my brother Peter and I would get into similar shenanigans after school or on the weekends. One particular incident involved him riding a bicycle with me holding onto a rope tethered to the bike while standing on a skateboard. Now I say standing not riding because I never developed sound skateboarding skills. And actually this time the skateboard began to wobble back and forth with the speed of the bike pulling it. I freaked out and did the first thing I could think of - jump off the wobbly object. If I would have thought more rationally about it, I probably would have chosen to let go of the rope first. But that wasn't the immediate crisis to my brain. Because of this rash decision or impulse, I was dragged down our street - no rather I was bounced down our street unable to yell or cry because the air had been knocked out of me.
Anyway, the picture of my boys this morning brought this to mind. Ironically it wasn't a painful memory but one of mischievous joy.
2 comments:
Of all the Christmas presents I received while growing up that skateboard made it through the years as the most functional, durable, and misused item. Papa Carlson used that skateboard to move furniture and appliance's so much that I believe he grew quite fond of it. Fond enough to make sure that I brought it out to California when the parents were vacating River Edge Drive.
Few images in my life can be recalled as vividly as my memory, terror filled with wonderment, of you bouncing on the street, steel-fisted grip on the jump rope. I just wanted the skateboard to go as fast as possible.
Of all the Christmas presents I received while growing up that skateboard made it through the years as the most functional, durable, and misused item. Papa Carlson used that skateboard to move furniture and appliances so much that I believe he grew quite fond of it. Fond enough to make sure that I brought it out to California when the parents were vacating River Edge Drive.
Few images in my life can be recalled as vividly as my memory, terror filled with wonderment, of you bouncing on the street, steel-fisted grip on the jump rope. I just wanted the skateboard to go as fast as possible.
-Peter
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