Hello Dears,
What a wonderful week. Not in the sunshine and roses kind of way (though we have had lots of sunshine and I received potted peonies and lilacs for Mother's day). But a thankful for the quiet sort of week.
Truman was sick most of the weekend. The dreaded strep revisited our house in all it's fevery glory. And we skipped spring and dove into summertime weather, just in time for Truman to want to wrap his sweaty weary limbs about me. ALL. WEEKEND. LONG. I spent most of it no more than 5 feet from him. If I got any farther, he would yelp as if I physically hurt him.
But you know, I didn't really mind. I thought I would get tired of it. Or that I should be tired of it. But it seems, I needed the weekend (and the beginning of the week)-- to bring him more icey water cups, smoothing his hair while his temperature soared. Or to doze in the big nest of cotton sheets as we watched the umpteenth VeggieTales or read There's a Monster At The End of This Book (thank you, Grandma P).
On Tuesday, My birthday.... this little man woke up from the only three and a half hours he slept that night and said, rather hoarsely, "Good Morning Mama, Happy Birthday." As if he had been waiting all of his sleep-time to wake up with good wishes for me.
And so, the Mother's Day breakfast in bed was wonderful. Eric's homemade delights: waffles, whipped cream and raspberry sauce dotted with fresh raspberries. Plus eggs and potatoes. We all sat in a circle on the bed and had a picnic together. Now that, I can't deny was a favorite part. The cards in the mail and the well wishes for my birthday were also sweet, thoughtful and heart filling.
But quiet house, a quiet boy and a reminders of how quiet our life is... makes me burst with gratitude for the enforced break. However sweaty it may have become.
*Truman's photo taken a few weeks ago.
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