We’re home. And the girls are sick. Both of them.
“We have a perfect match,” the doc said.
“An infection in Avery’s left ear, and another in Briar’s right.”
Two infections, two fevers, and two broken parents.
I realize we didn’t invent suffering, but today facing these two sets of blue eyes and running noses it sure feels like we have a corner on the market. I am home, thank you Mr. Shimkus, for being the most benevolent boss ever and allowing me to work for you and take care of my family. Luck, lucky mom mom am I.
I am excited to be able to write again, but so help me the need to hold a mirror under their sleeping mouths is back with such force I look like I am suffering from tremors of some sort. I’ll try not to on ad nauseum about the agony of being a helpless amoxicillin administering parent of two/too sweet, angelic little daughters.
Stay tuned for the inevitable sleeping beauty shots.