My usual naptime mantra is “please don’t wake up yet, please don’t wake up yet.” On most days, it seems that as soon as I get my daughter settled for a nap and I eat lunch and check my e-mail, she’s awake again. Today, however, she is feeling crummy and I want to hold her and hug her and wipe her drippy nose. She has croup, accompanied by a fever. I have spent two and a half days carrying her 24-pound self just about everywhere with me (and two nights soaking away my own aches in a warm bath).
To me, the best part of being a mommy is being there when I’m needed. Of course I don’t celebrate her sickness, but I do like how flexible our schedule is when the only place we need to go is our pediatrician’s office. Instead of dressing and rushing to our parent/toddler class at school today, we spent this morning (after her doctor appointment) reading stacks of books and watching videos. She even let me read my own book while she watched a video. I don’t have to urge her to please eat something healthy because she literally has no appetite. We have cuddled all day. She is my little snuggle bunny.
Now she is napping and while I welcome the personal space, I miss her. I’m staring at her in the video monitor next to me, just waiting for her to wake so I can scoop her up again, check her temperature, and get her some watered-down juice. I wish I could take away all her aches and pains and put that usual spark of cleverness back in her eyes. She isn’t talking much, probably because her throat hurts, but by putting her hand in mine or laying her head on my chest, I know exactly what she is saying to me. My sweet girl feels awful, and yet I love taking care of her.
