13 Hours

I'm dreaming of this

Last night was epic, one for the history books and if Mamas are eligible for gold stars, could I have some please?  The letter M can now stand for Magnet.  Poor thing, I think it’s a teething and cold double whammy – in layman’s terms we can call it an acute case of “don’t put me down, Mama!”  From the time she closed her eyes at 6:30 pm, we were touching for a solid 13 hours, save my intermittent attempts to transfer her off of me.  Remember my pledge to drink lots of water?  Yes, we “went” together.  The cold is really in her throat so the cries are pretty much unbearable (sounds like a barking seal).  In a desperate attempt to eat my own dinner, digging deep into the advanced move category, I got into the crib with her.  I got INTO the crib WITH her.  This totally worked until I climbed out, at which point she sprang back to life.  Despite her feeble state she has a newfound obsession with drinking directly from a grownup glass (held by her and only her).  This happened pretty much every time she woke up (I swear it seemed like every 15 minutes).  I’m not sure if it’s intentional or not, but after taking a sip she frequently slams the glass down with both hands like she’s just taken her fifth shot.  Nerve wracking - and wet.  Neither of us had much pep this morning but her fever was lower at least. 

In case you are genuinely worried, we went to Dr. G yesterday and ears, throat and chest were checked and it’s nothing more than a garden-variety virus, which should pass within a few days.  "Few days", I'm begging you to please fly by.

...and this