thursday

written much earlier | just cleaning out the drafts drawer

COLDER than it looked.

My morning began with my middle D getting into bed -- wheezy and choking, pushing me over so that she could sleep in my space. I gently pull covers over her and she shrieks that she's burning up.

I schooch over and try to count the minutes I have left before I have to go to work - I mean -- get up.

It's so funny how we kind of prod through life . . . one day your kid is home sick and you're in the space of complete mom mode -- when you go to the store to get their ingredients for their favorite smoothie, walk to the bank, get a call that they also would like peanut butter bumpers -- you go back to the store, walking with your little backpack and buy the damn cereal, slightly cursing in your head. The next day you're taking your first baby, the one who started this whole program off, to visit a large university. I'm praying to God I don't cry the whole time. That would probably scare her and really suck so I'm going to pretend that we're both going off to school together, best friends, and we're going to have an AWESOME time. That's my strategy.