I came home early today because the cold, the fever, the aches, the congestion- everything that swept through my house last month, that I’ve avoided, and bragged about and shamelessly congratulated myself for…EVERYTHING hit me at once. Yesterday afternoon. With no warning. And no sign of going away anytime soon. And tonight, on St. Patrick’s Day, we were to celebrate with friends and homemade corned beef and cabbage and Bailey’s cheesecake and instead I heated up leftovers for Graham while Greyson made himself “jelly bread”. And (I’m going to see how many times I can start a sentence with the word ‘and’) when I say he made it himself, I mean he got the bread from the pantry, the canned blackberry jam from the fridge, a plastic knife from the silverware drawer and he tore the crusts from his bread, spread the jam and he ate that sandwich as fast as he could because I had to bribe him with post-dinner ice cream and an early birthday gift for ruining his night that was to be spent with his friend Vincenzo where he surely would have ignore the corned beef and cabbage and dug straight into the cheesecake.
This boy, our boy, is going to be 5 on Monday. While we waited for daddy to get home tonight, Greyson ran upstairs with Graham, stopped on the landing and said, “Mom, you know what I did during naptime today"?”
- Me: “What did you do?”
- G: (pride in his voice) “I prayed”
Cue the waterworks.
Though we missed a fun St. Patrick’s celebration, Greyson did get to spend yesterday afternoon playing with Vincenzo whose mom is quite the talent with a camera. Thanks Mrs. Mouthy for the pics.
Tomorrow we leave for Great Wolf Lodge to celebrate Greyson’s birthday. I hope he remembers to pray for my health tonight. I need a little divine intervention.
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