April 1, 2002 - Monday
Silly, stupid, incessant whining: from the time Harry woke up from his nap until I left for a meeting. He is better from his fever, isn't he? We took his temperature last evening and again this morning. His daycare provider took it again once he was there. All times normal. Still the whining. Maybe he's hungry. "Do you want a snack?" "Nooooo." More whining. Maybe he's just gotten used to whining and getting attention. Five days of fever was bad all around. I think he needs a snack. He is better, isn't he? "Why are you crying, Harry?" "I can't help you unless you tell me what's the matter." Still the whining. I think he's hungry and he doesn't understand the pain and the lightheadedness (that's what happens to me; you'd think the body would demand food, but it can be disorienting). "Harry, you need to eat something. It will make you feel better." "Nooooo." I'm too left-brained to relish irrational behavior. This is not my strength as a parent. "Harry, maybe you need to take a nap." "Nooooo." "You either need to eat or rest until your done crying." He did already take a long nap. He is better, isn't he? His body has been ill for five days. He hasn't eaten much in five days. He needs to eat, doesn't he?
He doesn't eat much dinner. Still the whining. He needs to eat. Yes, we think he needs to eat. He is better, isn't he? He needs to eat. "Nooooo, don't like it!" We put he to bed. It's only 6:00pm. Screaming. Banging on the door. "Harry wants dinner." Is he playing with us? "Harry eat something." OK, we sit him down again at the kitchen table. He eats most of the bowl of soup he didn't touch yesterday for lunch. I have to go out for an evening appointment, but I wait for him to finish as much dinner as possible. His mother is with Jeremy. I'll be late as it is. I call from the car. His mother says he's been better. I think he was hungry. Why didn't he know that? He been sick. Hopefully he's better.