Birthday, Mommy-Style
Two nights ago Cora developed the croup.
She and I were up for a large portion of the night, her barking
coughs and sad little cries as she tried to breathe through her
constricted windpipe being the soundtrack of our wee hours. I
rubbed homemade vapor rub on her chest, rocked her, put a cut-up
onion by her bed to help her breathe, massaged her feet, and simply
sat with her while she whimpered.
Then the cat threw up. Several times.
Then the cat threw up. Several times.
And as I knelt on the bedroom floor,
scrubbing the carpet at 2 a.m. while Cora cried fretfully for me to
get back up in bed with her, I sang to myself, “Happy
birthday to me. . . happy birthday to me. . .”
Yes, that’s how I ushered in my birthday yesterday. A sleepless night tending child and beast.
I’d finagled my schedule a bit to have ALL my clients moved to other days; I had a modest list of errands to run –grocery store, bank, and so forth – during the day, but had high hopes that I could finish my errands in the morning, then return to bed for a nap and a good read.
That’s not exactly how my day went.
I got up, grumpy from the huge lack of sleep, and shuttled Maddie off to school. Then Cora and I went to the doctor to make sure it wasn’t bronchitis, received the croup diagnosis, and proceeded to run errands together in the car: drugstore, bank, back to the drugstore . . . not the easy, solitary day I’d anticipated.
Cora and I ended up back at home and I got to work making myself some pity cookies. My girl and I did some school work, read books, played games, and had a great deal of snuggling time. I fixed dinner, rushed off to teach my evening class, then came home at 9 p.m. to crash hard.
This morning Cora asked me, “Did you have a good birthday yesterday?”
I thought hard before answering carefully, “Well, it wasn’t my favorite birthday ever, because I’m never happy when my baby is sick. But I got to spend almost the whole day with you, which is always a good thing, and so that made it a great day.”
Cora nodded, content. “That’s what I thought.”
And I realized – I was actually telling the truth there.
Yes, that’s how I ushered in my birthday yesterday. A sleepless night tending child and beast.
I’d finagled my schedule a bit to have ALL my clients moved to other days; I had a modest list of errands to run –grocery store, bank, and so forth – during the day, but had high hopes that I could finish my errands in the morning, then return to bed for a nap and a good read.
That’s not exactly how my day went.
I got up, grumpy from the huge lack of sleep, and shuttled Maddie off to school. Then Cora and I went to the doctor to make sure it wasn’t bronchitis, received the croup diagnosis, and proceeded to run errands together in the car: drugstore, bank, back to the drugstore . . . not the easy, solitary day I’d anticipated.
Cora and I ended up back at home and I got to work making myself some pity cookies. My girl and I did some school work, read books, played games, and had a great deal of snuggling time. I fixed dinner, rushed off to teach my evening class, then came home at 9 p.m. to crash hard.
This morning Cora asked me, “Did you have a good birthday yesterday?”
I thought hard before answering carefully, “Well, it wasn’t my favorite birthday ever, because I’m never happy when my baby is sick. But I got to spend almost the whole day with you, which is always a good thing, and so that made it a great day.”
Cora nodded, content. “That’s what I thought.”
And I realized – I was actually telling the truth there.
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Mommy Musings
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