The Little Man

I'm home today with Christine. She woke up with a stomachache, which technically is Day 2 of not feeling quite right.

I took Russell to daycare. If Christine's sick I'd rather minimize the time they spend together if I can. Plus, I can get more done here and I've already paid for his time.

He was sad, and madmadmad. He wanted to stay home. He doesn't like school. He cried, he shouted, he screamed. Knife in my heart. Baaad mommy. I told him I'd pick him up after naptime, at 3. He didn't want his bunny, he didn't want his blanket. He wants his bunny, he wants his blanket. I held him on my lap and rocked him. He's got a cold coming on, his dad's been gone for a week, he doesn't feel good. My poor little man.

I got him settled as best I could, and left. I had to. 99 days out of 100 he goes happily to play with his buds. This is the one I'll remember. As I was turning the corner down the hall I looked back and saw him leaving his room to put his blanket and his bunny back in his cubby. I don't know if he was doing this because he wanted to or because his teacher told him to. I tucked around the corner and peeked. After a minute he went, head down, back into his room and I saw his teacher's hand light on the top of his head as he went through the door.

This kid, he's my heart. He's my last, my baby, my I Love You Mommy! as he nuzzles whatever part of me's closest. He gives love freely because it's what he feels at the moment. I try to capture and enjoy every minute because I know someday he'll be older, and won't.