The Ailments by Shantel Walz

March 24, 2017

The Ailments

For the most part, my son is pretty darn healthy. Doctor visits for anything other than a routine examination are far and few. Other than the annual dreaded 24-48 hour stomach virus that ascends from the pit of hell, we’ve been blessed. So you’re probably wondering why the title of this piece is “The Ailments.” Get comfy.

My kid has passed the threshold of being complacent with routine. He’s developed a desire to flex his 3 year old muscle and negotiating skills. I’ve gotta give the boy props, though, he’s “gudt” (“Shanspeak” for “beyond good”). Naptimes are becoming more sporadic, and bedtime has gotten increasingly later as the days go on. Sleep is his new enemy and my long lost love.

A few weeks ago, Grey, the toddler in question, realized his cries weren’t effective at naptime. Mommy needed silence, and nothing would stand in my way. He sensed my determination apparently because, the next thing I knew, he was cozied up beside me showing me his finger. He pulled out the big guns. With big teary, puppy dog eyes, he blinked hard enough for one tear to fall and whimpered, “Oh, Mommy. My finger. It hurrrrrts.”

It took everything in my power not to laugh. I knew this game. I played it well…and still do on those days I need a break from the mayhem in my house. I’m not above feigning constipation while sitting on the toilet lid down, fully clothed, listening to an audiobook or podcast. But this isn’t about me.

Since the initial finger pain, we’ve experienced the most obnoxious fake WWE falls, followed by even “fake-er” crying. There have been “hurt” bellies, “hurt hair,” painful eyes, and, my all-time favorite, the “hurt toenail” at shower time. We have witnessed tuck and rolls, belly flops, and exaggerated silent lay-ins on the kitchen floor at the mere mention of “time to get ready for bed.” Never tantrums…just all dramatic attempts at making the “ailments” more believable.

I’m not sure when or how my little guy decided that his mom was a sucker, but I will not be defeated. Game on. There can only be one master of ailments in this household.

Pictured above is how I found Grey one morning after a night of hurting hair.

Mommy-1, Grey-0.

About the Author

Shantel Walz is a wife, mother, freelance artist, and writer. Chocolate, baking, and imagining conversations for random people (who she sees talking but can’t hear) are her weaknesses. Six days out of the week, you can find her yelling at her TV while answering Alex Trebek. Wu-Tang is life. Her mohawk never dies. Sparkles, sequins, and glitter move her. Shantel’s website/blog is www.yourartcrush.comInteract with Shan on Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, and Periscope: @yourartcrush 

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