I’ve been up for a long time. Not just awake, tossing and turning, but REALLY up up. Doing shit. Important shit. Mom shit.
My darling 5-year-old boy got a little clingier than normal yesterday evening and I could feel “it” descending upon us. “Hold you,” he demanded sweetly. This is always the first sign of any serious illness with him. Then came the orange chunky vomit. Then again. Then he led me to sleep next to him on the bathroom floor. More orange chunks. Then back to the bed. And so on all night long and well into the morning. Then the afternoon. My anxiety started rising right along with his temperature.
Why isn’t the damn Tylenol working?
Should I call the doctor now? She already thinks I’m stupid anyway, no risk of making that any worse.
But of course we made it through. We always do. I haven’t slept in 2 days. I didn’t get my Humanities assignment turned in on time. Or at all. Yet. I’ll get it done, get off my back! But I snuggled with my favorite little boy and and nursed him back to health, which was an awesome and important use of my time and energy. While it wasn’t a pleasure, it definitely was an honor to do so. An honor I’m certain to get again soon because this kid catches EVERYTHING the playground bacteria buffet has to offer. And I’m OK with that today.