
I woke up groggy this morning after going to bed later than usual due to parent-teacher conferences. We had to wake Reed up to get him ready for day care, he usually wakes on his own...we would have all rather slept in on this Wednesday! Tired and cranky (both of us), wouldn't eat breakfast and whiny through diaper/clothing change (just him :)). Finally R headed out the door with dad. Scrambled to get myself ready next, after sweeping all the various foods that had been spit onto the floor, also finally headed out the door as well. Almost to school, got a call from his nanny that the lil' one was sick and we may need to get him. Half a day later in the astonishingly-corrupt school I get to call my work environment, I finally get "outta there" and back to my increasingly sick tot. A few smiles outside in the warm sun and cuddles with dad before the tone of the day rears its ugliness again. Dinner is a battle...food trial-and-error pulled out of fridge and pantry. All spit on floor again (with the exception of applesauce). Dip the cranky child in warm bath after letting the room 'steam' a bit while he cries because of being put down momentarily and, ahh, finally a few minutes of relief. Cold/warm shakes, get him out, screams pathetically ('sick scream', about half of usual volume). Dad leaves for basketball. Bottle, medicine, footed football pj's (he says "ball" in agreement to these), and time for books. We are both exhausted. Lights out. Throws up ALL over us. I want to cry. He does cry. Clean up (again) and plop in chair, even more exhausted, about to reach for book. On my lap, he curls his body to the side, folds his hands like he is praying (maybe he knows I need one right now :)), and falls into a deep, snorty-'cuz-congested, sleep. I do cry. Despite all, he is my release of the bleak and a reminder of the sweet. My purpose and perspective. Whatta Day :).