I am almost done with my cooking, courtesy of my feverish AM; I had a very productive two hours while he was napping (and I should have been in ulpan). Unfortunately the same feverish AM might trip the wire for canceling the weekend altogether, in which case I will have enough food for 12 and nobody to eat it. *cry*
But this post is my sappy rumination on how parenting can be so hard and so easy at the same time. Last night, when he was sad and sick, he just wanted to be held. We gave him some medicine to reduce the fever, but it just took the edge off. There was really nothing we could do for him (hard) except just be with him (doesn’t get easier).
This morning we had a brief respite from the fever–it’s back now–but I made my calls to cancel my morning and his. I let him play a computer game for a little while and then suggested he take a nap. He asked, “Ema, will you sleep with me?” This is a common request, usually when he’s been told to go to bed but he isn’t quite ready. But this morning at 9, I happily cuddled my baby until he fell asleep. Such a small thing, but just what he needed. I wish I could make him feel “all better,” but for now this will have to do.