When I’m sick

I’ve been too busy and ill to update my blog lately, but I did write a melodramatic and self-pitying entry in my head the other day. It was 4:30 am, and I was awake and nursing Mellow, who had a cold. I had a terrible cold as well, and was completely miserable. All I wanted to do was sleep, but I couldn’t, because I had to take care of the baby. Will, who was not sick at all, was sleeping peacefully. So there I was feeling resentful and ill and angry, and mentally composing a post about how I never get to take a break, no matter how sick I get and nobody helps me at all, etc etc etc.

And that same morning, when I usually have to get up and get the kids ready and take Wildling to school and deal with her fits, Will did that. He took Mellow, changed her diaper, and brought her back to bed, where she fell asleep. He got up with Wildling and got her breakfast and dealt with the usual morning drama of picking out her clothing (oh my god, the drama – how will we survive the teenage years???) and drove her to school. When he does this, it makes his days longer and harder. He can’t commute by bus because the express bus stops running at 8:00, and school starts at 8:30. He ends up having to drive to work, which he hates, and stay longer to make up for his later arrival and his inability to work during the commute, and then he has to deal with traffic on his way home. But he did all of that, without me having to ask. He didn’t even wake me up. I woke up with Mellow (both of us still miserable) at 10:30. And there was a pot of oatmeal on the stove for us. It didn’t make me feel less ill, but it did make me feel better.

Will loves me. And he takes care of me, even when I’m whiny and self-pitying and probably really annoying.

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