Perspective

There is nothing like your child being very ill and coughing up a lung pretty much every fifteen minutes to force you into getting just a teensy bit of perspective.

Even worse, knowing that you were the one that pushed his poor little body to have a temperature of 102 for three days definitely makes your priorities magically align. I brought him to the doctor on Wednesday morning, knowing he had a nasal drip, but thinking that it was allergies. I have this dread of not giving him the proper medicine and bungling his treatment, so I sought assurance from his doctor. Yes, yes, allergies seemed to be the culprit.

So because he was on vacation, I had a bunch of activities planned, and since it was only allergies, I went full steam ahead with little protest from the child.

Did I curtail things when he got worse? No, because when I told him that we may not do X activity because he seemed sick, I got wailing pleading cries to go out, and since I am idiotic enough to listen to a four year old, things got pretty gnarly there for a while. Turns out it was a cold, and Mr. P had Mommy to thank for blithely dragging him all over creation for three days.

But that little guy is such a trooper, he rarely complains when he is sick. Even when he was gasping for air after a coughing fit, he would just say, "Mommy, I don't really like coughing at all."

The things my son will teach me are probably just beginning.

So forgive me, my friends, my insufferable whining and decidedly un-fun pity party. While touched by the kind comments, I felt guilty because it seemed that some of you thought I was referring to you, which was not the case at all.

I had lunch with a good friend on Sunday who is truly going through a difficult time in her life and she encouraged me to pursue a path of interest I have long been contemplating. Even in her time of trial, she helped me to realize that it is ME who has been holding me back, and that my frustration is mostly with my own inability to act, for goodness sakes.

Thank you for not stating the obvious fact that I was acting like a spoiled 13 year old, but without the inherent cuteness that comes with being 13. You can't buy that kind of tact, really.

How could I possibly stop blogging, having "met" all of you wonderful people?

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