In a way, this illness has been good for me. Holding Ella while she coughed and cried at 4 this morning, I realized that the physical unrest has pushed out the mental unrest, at least for now. Perhaps what I needed was a swift kick in the pants to remind me how thankful I am for my little family, or perhaps it is just that I am too tired and feverish to follow the obsessive thoughts down the road to “I fail at life”-ville. Either way, it’s a sad state of affairs when you realize that, with a dry cough, a fever and the chills, you feel better than you have in a few weeks.
Speaking of those symptoms, they don’t sound like a cold anymore, do they? Please, please don’t let it be the flu. No one is throwing up, but did you know that throwing up is not usually a symptom of the flu? I didn’t. Maybe I’m behind the curve there, but that is how we determined whether or not it was the flu when I was growing up. Then again, we also took antibiotics for colds. Blame us for MRSA (which both Tom’s stepdad and his grandfather were hospitalized with in the last year.) We also had pneumonia a lot for just having colds, but then again, we also had asthma, allergies and ear infections, so perhaps all the second hand smoke had something to do with that as well.
Thankfully Cricket is still healthy, and her squeals and smiles have helped distract us all from how crappy we feel. I forgot how brilliant the developmental stages are – right when you feel like giving up, suddenly they start smiling and you can’t get enough of them again. She is looking and acting more and more like a baby instead of a newborn, which makes me want to freeze time. I look forward to watching her grow up, to learning who she is, to all the fun we will have, but oh. Oh oh oh how sweet these days are.
Well, okay, not today. Let’s not capture today in a bottle, since it would consist of a lot of Curious George, coffee and whining. Wait.. maybe that is every day…