Sick Day

It’s a gray, drizzly, cold Sunday outside, which is unfortunate because it is mid-May and there should be nothing in May that resembles cold weather. I got up and showered and got my girls up and ready for church, which is no small feat every Sunday. Don’t get me wrong – they love going to church – it’s the getting out of bed and ready thing that they don’t love so much. I knew when Molly woke up that something wasn’t quite right. I heard a few muffled coughs from her room overnight, a typical reaction to her allergy shots she receives each week, but this seemed ickier than usual. Deeper. Worse.

She was quiet all morning, and if you know Molly, you know her name is not synonymous with quiet. She constantly gives us a verbal play-by-play to her every waking hour.  By the time we arrived at church, I knew our morning efforts were in vain. She was miserable. Mostly because it meant not joining her youth group for a fun outing after church, but also because she felt crummy. So I dropped Syd off with her dad and her church family and headed home to curl up and take care of the sick monkey.

Something deep in my heart hurts when she is sick, no matter how much my common sense tells me that she is going to be just fine and this too will pass. Maybe because she has been sick so much in her short-almost-7 years, way more than any child should ever be sick. Allergies and asthma and GI issues have made life challenging for her, but she is a trooper like no other. Very little slows her down. Very, very little.

She asked for a nap today after we got home. That’s how I knew she was feeling particularly crummy. She stopped napping at 3. She didn’t even nap when she got her tonsils and adenoids removed last Thanksgiving and she was doped up on pain meds. So she slept for awhile and then woke up snuggly and warm – really warm – but I know she will be just fine.  Until then, I’m going to enjoy the snuggle fest while I can.


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