We're snowed in and on Day 3 of my babies being feverish and crummy. They are so pitiful. Hot cheeks. Droopy eyes. Tired smiles. As bad as they feel, though, they are just so darn sweet. Do your kids get sweeter and more loving when they're sick, or is it just mine? My goodness. I hate this for them but I really could just eat them up.
Selah crawls in my bed before midnight, shucks her shirt, and presses her fiery chest against mine. "I love you Mama. May I have some water please, Mama? Thank you Mama." In the dark, I feel her plant a wet, germ-laced kiss on my lips. I say a quick prayer she didn't infect me with The Crud and smile and say I love you Sweetie.
Boy, do I. There is something about my kids being sick that gives me a greater sense of purpose. Like all this nose wiping, medicine giving, and throw-up cleaning is WHAT I WAS MADE FOR. Like I am exactly where I'm supposed to be.
As much as I hate this for my babies and am praying hard for them to recover, I absolutely love caring for them. It is my joy to make them from-scratch chicken soup (which they barely touch) and homemade oatmeal cookies (which they devour) and watch Daddy Day Care an unofficial 14 times in a row.
So go ahead and fall, Sleet and Snow. I'm fine in here. I've got the sweetest of patients and the biggest of purposes.
(I'm a little low on milk and bread though, so by tomorrow, melt quickly.)