the road to recovery

Ok chickadees, it’s finally Friday.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Boo’s been sick, and when I picked him up Wednesday, A told me he hadn’t had a great day and wasn’t feeling very well.

We just gave him medicine, she noted, as he came teetering over to me and face planted, drunk-toddling a side effect from the Motrin, apparently.Since I am a responsible mother, I picked him up to comfort him and only snickered for three seconds first.

We discussed his symptoms as a circle of three-year-old swarmed me, trying to hand me various objects of T’s to bring home.

This is his water, one said.

And his pacifier, another said, shoving it at me.

My godson tried to climb into Boo’s car seat with him.

I’m fairly certain that the toddlers think I am their peer and not a mom.

I’m not sure how I feel about that, so please don’t ask me until I’ve had more time to consider it.

I decided that daycare was maybe not the best place to calmly recover from a cold, so Boo spent the day with his Auntie J yesterday, demanding to hold her hand all day and getting all.the.attention.

That’s usually what it takes around here to get back to wellness.

And with that, we’re off to get through one more day and then celebrate the weekend, even if it just means movies on the couch.

Especially if it means movies on the couch.

Enjoy the sunshine if you’ve got it, chickens!

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