Oh my gah. Rowan decided to up the ante on the whole ear infection thing and get two ear infections and pneumonia. Pneufreakingmonia. We were supposed to leave for a trip to DC on Friday night, but Thursday we ended up back at the pediatrician’s office for the second time that week when he cried for 12 hours straight. He had O2 sats in the low 90s, and after two rounds of nebulizer was still crackly, though his saturation was better.
She wanted a Honey I Shrunk the Kids birthday party.
I made giant decorations. Baked the cake. Prepped and planned. The weather was beautiful; an early April day perfect for kiddie pools and bathing suits. I was 29 weeks pregnant.
Kindergarten stresses me out. I don’t think it is supposed to do that. But as I pull paper after crumpled paper from Lorelei’s bookbag I can feel myself wanting to shove it all under the couch and run far, far away. 100 days projects. Boxtops. A million pieces of school work. Worksheets. Books for her to read. Newsletters. Fliers for programs and meetings and groups. Snack calendars. Fundraisers. -a-thons. Drives. As my brain is trying to prioritize this, it spirals into fear that I did not remember to do that thing. Some thing. I don’t know what thing. But there’s always a thing.
My village. My friends. My family. I’ve talked and blogged about my village ad nauseam. If I ever win a major award I won’t have to write a speech, I can just go copy and paste.
I probably won’t remember this.
The soft fuzz of your head tucked under my chin as you nestle yourself closer against my body. The faint smell of milk and your mouth opening as you try to find your way.