sick baby...

Now that he's one, or maybe because he's so tall, I've mentally made the switch to thinking of Oscar as not a baby anymore. He doesn't walk or talk, but he's starting to grow up in my mind.

At least most of the time. He caught some sort of bug and is now sick. We're on our third try of getting him to sleep. He does fall asleep, but he must feel terrible. SylRafa weren't sick often. And when they were, they battled through really well (at least as far as I remember). Oscar is suffering more, or battling less, or capitalizing on mami time--for which he certainly has gotten the short shrift so far. I will make that up to him when he's 17, but he won't care, then.

Anyhow, poor O is not a happy camper. And as I hold his limp, tired, body in my arms, twitching with his aches and discomfort, I know he's still my baby. And he needs my love and hugs and the comfort that he is cared for more than anything right now. And I am erupting with love.

Please pray we get some sleep tonight! And that nobody else caught or will catch this.