Marin

Today my daughter is sick. She is tiny and cuddly and 8 years old. Still thinks the sun rises and sets on her mother and I eat up every moment. My teenagers are wonderful and loving but have taken on the role of almost caregivers, Marin is still my snuggler-the one who says "it's alright Mommy" and gives me kisses.

Today is supposed to be my turn to be the caregiver. She is laying on the couch, medicated, with her water within reach and a pillowpet behind her head. Today should be the day for me to be the mom, making chicken soup, making her better, my turn to say "it's alright Marin" and give her kisses.

I can already feel today's pain creeping in, medication dulling my senses, dizziness ending my dreams of making chicken soup. Marin will be moved from couch and cartoons to dark room, hugs and kisses to "shhh, Mommy's head hurts"

Life has handed me lemons - I do not want to make lemonade - I wanted chicken soup! Today I want to rage and scream and throw those lemons through windows. Today I just wanted to be a mom.

Oh Steph, I feel your pain. ((((( hugs ))))) hope you & Marin are feeling better soon.
Thinking of you.
Mimi