The house is under siege…well you know, not for real but the toddler’s sick….and anybody who’s ever had a toddler knows that if the toddler ain’t happy…ain’t nobody happy.
So for the past two and a half days I’ve been peed on, puked on, feverishly hugged like only a boa can hug its prey. I’ve been pillow, mattress and blanket. I’ve been entertainer and food dispenser. And when that wasn’t enough I was the shoulder to cry on and the person that got blamed because “put the movies back in order or not at all or I will keep screaming and by the way blu-rays aren’t DVDs you nincompoop”. Of course junior didn’t actually say that. It was implied in his rant, tears and flailing arms.
In other words. I’ve been a mom. And in the past 2.5 days I’ve done my very best to be super mom. So I hug and I change the sheets and lay next to my little ball of fever and ick and pat his head. I whisper softly “mommy’s here” and hear a short whiff and a sigh of relief….and I pray that I did it right. I do it because it’s the only thing I know. The only thing I know how to do. I cannot not be there for him. I cannot not lay on a mattress in his room to be closer when he needs me.
Last nigh I slept 4 hours. The night before that 3. If I can make it 5 tonight I’ll be golden. Or I’ll take 3 and junior can have my other 2 without fever and without a tummy ache. About 30 minutes ago junior managed to fall back asleep with just a pat on the back and me pulling down his blanket so he doesn’t get too hot. That means it’s time. Time to sleep. Take it or leave it. Now or never.