Yesterday was a sick day. Ezra brought home a nasty cold from his first week in daycare that then
infected Brent and I. We’ve been playing musical beds to try and eke out as many hours of sick sleep
as we can each night. The past few days have been full of snot, red cheeks, fevers, and chills. The
exhausting kinds of days where being a parent is the most stressful because you are feeling nothing but weak and used up.
I stayed home from work yesterday in hopes of fighting this cold back with lots of rest, water, and
Gossip Girl. But when you have a toddler who is energetic despite his viral state and a laid out husband that’s not exactly what I got. While we did spend a good chunk of the morning in bed, most of my day was spent running around, wiping Ezra’s nose, and dreaming of my warm bed come naptime.
Naptime for Ez came early. We were watching Megamind for the 138914523598623432 time and Brent and I were talking. Ez crawled up and laid on me while I was splayed out on the couch. In the middle of a sentence Brent says “He’s asleep.” My child who hates to snuggle his way to dreamland had fallen asleep laying on my chest in about 30 seconds flat. My heart freakin' burst.
As I was making breakfast for dinner last night it hit me: peace. I caught the sunset, I was breathing easy, dinner was cooking, the boys were playing together, it was just peaceful. For someone who rarely feels peaceful these days it really was the breath of fresh air I needed. It segued sweetly into today which kicked ass. My churning stomach has finally settled, for now. Even if it's only for today, I'll take it.