In the middle of the night, when little feet pad into the room, looking for reassurances, my first reaction is an inward groan. I am tired. But Elliott wants to snuggle in bed. For various reasons this occasionally happens (more since we have moved) and we allow it, though many times, after a while we ask him to move back to his bed, or he ends up on the floor to have more room. The big person bed gets awfully crowded with two big people, a pushy dog, and a sprawl-legged boy in it!
Last night, after he was snuggled next to me, I felt how hot he felt. Fever. So I got the thermometer. After a few minutes and a few coughs, I got a drink. And then I lay there snuggling him, but thinking the following:
- there goes my exercise time at the Y tomorrow… no sick kids
- there goes school for Elliott
- there goes the chance to take Oliver somewhere like the zoo or park
- there goes the chance to buy the book I decided I wanted to grab at school
- the whole day might be filled with not a sweet, loving sick child but a whiny, not-really-that-sick kid
- we might all get sick, sicker than the colds we already have
But pushing those thoughts aside, Elliott stroked my face with his warm hand and snuggled closer. It is so nice to know he feels safe and comforted coming to me for care, trusting I will help him. (And I won’t say out loud everything I am thinking.)
(*But I recognize that I am not a supermom. If in two or three nights he is still clammering into my bed, exhaustion tends to short circuit the nice nighttime mommy into a nasty, grumpy one. I hope this is short lived!)
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