surfacing

Even though it was a short week, last week felt very long. Will didn't sleep for two nights straight because he came down with an awful cough that made him gag and gasp for breath. It was the worst I'd ever heard him cough, and I was up all night for two nights in a row tending to him -- giving him water, making sure the humidifier was filled, administering breathing treatments as needed, checking for a fever that never came to fruition. 

The lack of sleep, added to the fact that work was once again (and promises to continue to be) insane, means that I got an awful cold on Thursday afternoon. I stayed home from work yesterday and slept from 11 AM to 5 PM, then went back to bed at 10:00 and slept until 8:00 this morning. All the sleep must've been just what I needed, because I feel much better today. But I may have pushed it by going to the grocery store earlier, because by the time I got home I was absolutely exhausted, and my head was pounding. So we're having a lazy afternoon: Andrew is playing with a bunch of random stuff he found in one of the closets, Will's napping, and I'm blogging for the first time this week.

I hate that blogging has started to take a backseat to so many of my responsibilities already this year. My intention this year was to blog more, not less, because there are so many things I want to record in this journal of my life. I need to work harder at making more time for this.

The main recordable thing that happened this week is that Will had his two-year check-up on Thursday morning.

He threw a fit before we left the house because we weren't going to the doctor's office quickly enough. "I want to go to the doctor," he wailed, throwing himself on the floor and pounding his little fists. I bet he felt pretty silly when the doctor gave him shots. (Which were awful, by the way. He screamed and broke my heart and was literally incosolable for 15 minutes after the shots.)

He weighs 26.5 pounds and is 34 inches tall, and the doctor has absolutely no concerns about his growth and development. She said his lungs even sound completely clear, which baffles me because of all the ridiculous coughing. She was impressed with how "highly verbal, articulate, and understandable" he is. That made this mama pretty proud, I won't lie.

Tomorrow is a hard day for me; it's been a hard day every year for the past five years. I feel like the five-year anniversary of losing Mom should be some sort of milestone, that I should somehow feel differently about her death, that I should have something poignant to say about it all. But really, like every other day since the day she died, I just miss her. And wish desperately that she was still here.