Over the Christmas holiday our small son learned how to say his first word..his own name! Since then he has haphazardly thrown around words like ball and woof. So much for the friendly game of "whose name will he say first?" that Andrew and I were playing..we've been beat out by the dog, ball, and baby. If only Hector would appreciate it as much I would have..
But poor little "Obbo" as he calls himself (which I don't think he knows is him, but he knows how to say it..does that make sense?)..he has a terrible cold and spent most of yesterday with a fever. Last night I took his temp, which was a shocking 103.4. Yikes! Some acetaminophen, a cool bath, a cold washcloth, and some cuddling with Mommy had him zonked in no time. I got a little scared for a bit there, though..but after a call to the hospital who transferred me to the nurse's line, who only had a secretary who said the nurse would call back in 45 minutes to an hour gave me some time to pray and think things must not be too bad if no one in the medical profession thinks it's urgent. So after some worrying by me, some sleeping by Olives, and some healing by God, the babe is now on the mend.
Andrew also had the flu yesterday, but being the man that he is, decided he should go to work. About half way through the day he called to say he was headed home, and upon arrival, read his new John Grisham book for a few minutes, then took a 3 hour nap. That otta do ya! He felt much better after that. Then, I don't know how, but he also got a full night of sleep after such a stunt. He's crazy..but I love him.
I also was feeling pretty under the weather, but I've discovered that being the mom is much harder than my own dear mother ever let on.. you don't have time to care that you're sick, because you're busy caring for everyone else. Not to paint myself as the heroine or anything -I didn't do it without an attitude at least some of the time- but I did learn that my love and concern for my family grows more and more every day.
Sorry about the long-winded post!