i'll get to it eventually

i had intended to write a review for miriam toews' the flying troutmans, but there has been a change of plans. my baby is sick. i've put down my book and my knitting and curled around his little body, feeling the heat radiate off him and hearing his laboured breathing and terrible cough. he has thrown up on me six times in the last 24 hours, and i'm sure he's not done. he has a droning cry that goes on and on, he's limp and he freaks out if i so much as shift in my seat. it's time to just sit and wait. and so i sit and wait.

today has brought some wonderful things. my friends are amazing; i will never feel alone with them posting photoshopped boob shots of themselves and insulting my mom. my partner has brought me indian food, chocolate croissants, mandarin oranges, very strong coffee, towels and change after change of clothes.

the thing that i contemplate the most as i spend hour after hour with the little guy is how wonderful this is. when my older son was this age he got sick every single week. he weighed nothing. i was almost fired because we constantly had to stay home from daycare because of his sicknesses. my baby, on the other hand, has no chronic medical issues. he has had colds a handful of times in his year and a half. he is a hefty little person. he(normally) laughs and dances and tries to keep up with his brother. a few days of congested misery i can handle.

i'll get you that review sooner or later.