Lalala-nothing to see here

Just a healthy little boy with a double ear infection and green snot and a nasty cough who will be making his third doctor visit in four days in about twenty minutes.  Surprisingly though, I’m not too knocked down by it all, even though he was up all night until I finally took him for a walk at 5am and he fell asleep in his warm cuddly, well insulated Bob. I had forgotten how many people are up at that hour, standing in their kitchens. I am glad I’m not them.

I am tired though.

Life is extraordinarily hard right now. But in a normal banal way. After the not-normal extremely extraordinarily hard life of twenty-one months ago, I am in the grand scheme of things fine with it.

I don’t need to be fine with it. Babylost Mamas are as entitled to be worn out and overwhelmed by sick kids, pressing deadlines, mounting bills, as is anyone else. We aren’t required to be extraordinarily grateful that we even have the chance to be snotted on, sleep deprived, months behind on work.

But sometimes, like right now, I am. When Baby Man’s fever hit 106 and we flew off, down the same road that could take us to the cemetery where his brother is buried, I thought as I came to a particular intersection, “There’s no reason to panic. I’m turning right here. To the doctor, like the most normal mom in the world.” He’s just sick. When we got to the doctor and he wouldn’t sit on the examining table because he wanted to be hugged by me and the doctor had to exam him in that awkward position, I was sad that he felt so miserable. But happier than I could have ever imagined that I had a son to comfort.

And we’re off again.

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8 responses to “Lalala-nothing to see here

  1. Oh my I hope he feels better soon, poor lamb.
    I do use V’s death as perspective when the times are tough. Nothing is as tough as that, at least not so far, anyway.
    But I admit to having yelled at my husband for nothings, despite that perspective.

  2. I hope he feels better soon.

  3. eeeowww, poor wee bub.

    Like you said, no judgment for freaking out — mama’s deserve that. But our experiences certainly ground us, don’t they.

  4. Aw, poor BabyMan … poor Mama! Saying a prayer that he makes a turn for the better post haste, and then you can sleep, fall apart, or do whatever else that needs doing.

  5. I can imagine how amazing it must feel to have him cling to you.

  6. I still love that. I love that I have a 3 year old who still clings to me like her lifeline when she feels anxious. There is no other feeling like it in the world. And yet, it is the same feeling that leaves us feeling so vulnerable and powerless when there is nothing we can do to spare them pain.

    You are right. You have every right to feel tired, overwhelmed and even cranky about all of the above circumstances. But I am so very glad that in the middle of it all you still can celebrate his very existence. It is, indeed, a miracle.

    I hope he feels better soon…

  7. Hope baby man is feeling better. Green snot and fever sounds awful.

  8. See, I think everyone should feel extraordinarily grateful (that is, ideally people don’t need to have been where we’ve been to get it), and everyone should have the right to fall apart. I am a dreamer that way.

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