dear silly girl,
the months just keep passing by, faster and faster. it’s three days before Christmas, i have a cold and am generally bored with everything. i hate feeling this way, this week of all weeks. you are out of school and dad is off work. we should be having loads of fun doing… something. i’ve baked untill i don’t wanna see butter and flour again. you were the star that the wisemen followed in the church Christmas play. that’s over and done with, too. did i remember to take a picture? that would be a no. i was busy directing and trying to keep you and Lizzy from tearing up each other’s costumes and falling into the aisle.
i’m just glad it’s over.
but that’s where this cold came from. Sabrina, your cousin and one of Lizzy’s sisters, has been snotty for weeks. she’s also been attached to my hip. her mama thought maybe it was a sinus thing.
so i basically slept all day yesterday, have been throwing back cold medicine like a pill head, and hoping i will wake up tomorrow feeling much better. this being because i am the one who takes Papa to all of his appointments at the cancer center. tomorrow, his pump is going to go off and let us know that it’s empty of chemo meds. as soon as it does this, we need to head up back to the cancer center to get it unhooked from his port. this doesn’t take long, but with my being germy and all, i don’t want to pass anything on to him. does he have anyone else who can take him? yes. are they willing? no. loser kids. but i don’t mind because i want to be there. i want to know everything the doctors say. i want to know how he feels. i want to be the one whose hand he grabs for just a second to squeeze when it’s hitting him what he’s there for. i want to be the one who distracts him from what he’s doing while we’re there on monday mornings for 3 hours while the chemo is dripping into his body. i want to know how to help him. and it royally sucks that his kids don’t care.
but anyway… it’s Christmas and i couldn’t feel less Christmas-y. it’s a combination of being sick, having no time or money to do other things i would like to be doing, and just being kind of bored with it all. you know how you can’t enjoy the normal things you enjoy when you’re sick? i’m having a huge bout of that feeling. i’m trying to bust out of it. i’ll probably feel like jingling bells and all that jazz on thursday. i’ll fake it until then just for you.
i did want to write down for you one of the sweetest things you’ve ever said and done that happened yesterday.
i was laying on the couch, feeling miserable and guilty that you were in the floor watching the Shaytards on youtube. i leaned over the edge of the couch and said, “i’m sorry i’m sick, baby.”
to which you replied, “you don’t have to say sorry, mama.”
not too long after that, when i was getting ready to pass out for the third time that day, you came up and pulled a blanket over my shoulders and kissed my cheek, doing your best to take care of me.
and i felt much better after that.
it just reminded me of what a good kid i’m raising. you have your moments where your sassy-ness and 17-year-old attitude get you in trouble, but for the most part, you’re pretty great. you’re sweet and thoughtful and smart. you’re everything i ever imagined my child could be and more.
i love you, baby bear.
i love you so much i could write about it all night, but now i need to lay down again. my nose is sore and i’ve started mouth-breathing. it’s not an attractive picture to paint.
good night, sweet dreams, sleep tight and don’t let the bed bugs bite.