I am in the middle of guiltily packing for a conference, while my 4 year old is sleeping off a fever and cough. (Fingers crossed he sleeps it off. Poor kid…. and also, this mama already felt guilty escaping to a conference with friends for the weekend before there was a fever and a cough and a nebulizer!)
I wrote this slice while I sat with sleeping E, while listening in as “Mr. Thought” read the big kids the end of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. It was either post this poetry slice, or just post the following words: Harried. Hurried. Test days, sick days. Kid sick. Snuggles. Sleep. Pack. Escape. Guilty. Mother.
We rock in this chair I used to nurse you in You're warmer than the thermometer tells me, and your breathing is quicker, more labored than I want it to be You cozied up refused dinner asked for snuggles before falling asleep at 6:30 while daddy was still out picking up your medicine Early bedtime hopeful for a speedy recovery