Last week I felt pretty good about things. Meg had finally started sleeping better again and both kids were healthy and happy. Flash forward to this week and it's a whole different ballgame.
Poor Andy has been sick all week. And sick to the point that he just cries and screams a lot. It's pretty awful to see and listen to. He seemed much better last night, but had a bit of a lisp. I was worried he was having an allergic reaction, but after an earlyish call to the doctor on call (second time this week) he said without a rash, it was not likely to be a reaction. Phew. Instead it turns out, I discovered late tonight after staying home with him all day, it's a miserable cold/canker sore on the tip of his tongue. I can't see it and Andy won't show me, but Bjorn says he has. Ugh. He was so awful tired and cranky this evening, he went to bed at 6:15 p.m. only to wake up crying about every half hour. Bjorn went in to console him and now they're both asleep together at 7:48 p.m. I am probably not far behind.
You know, just when I think I've got a handle on this whole motherhood of two/working mother thing, something pops up to reassure me that I don't know jack. Thanks, life! I know, this is all temporary, everyone will get healthy again. And then I see pictures of older siblings (like this blog from a woman I went to Emory with) and I smile knowing that we're not too far away from Meg and Andy being able to talk to each other and have a real relationship and that makes me incredibly happy