All winter I’ve marveled at our ability to stay well. Not one cold, no flu. A couple weeks ago I thought we had it licked, and then the pollen started flying, and I remembered, “Oh yes, we’re the respiratory family.”
Zip was struggling SO hard to breath yesterday, it took two treatments at the doctors office to “chase the mouse out of his chest.”
We hadn’t slept much the day before and last night we slept even less. Every twenty minutes a plead for water, arms flailing, reaching for “MAMA! Are you there?!”
This morning I snuck into Tizzy’s bed to seek solace after being mired between two sweaty boys who’d taken me hostage in the night, in the big bed, which felt ridiculously small. I needed twenty minutes, uninterrupted, and just when I’d gotten it, I was brought back with a start, “MAMA!”
Bolt right, I panicked, “Have I missed an appointment? What day’s today?”
Just another day.
Although the decision was made long ago about no more babies, when it was clear that babies, while lovely were exhausting, I remembered this morning why the decision was made. Walking around in a half dazed state, hardly able to wash a dish before the next cry for “more water, more juice,” I remembered those days attached at the boob.
Babies are lovely, but, I’ll patiently await grandchildren.