Declan has his first cold. It sucks. And I've discovered that the only thing worse than having a sick baby is coming down with his sickness yourself. Trying to blow your nose with one hand while holding a screaming, coughing infant in the other is really quite tough. Last night we got up twice to steam up the bathroom (this poor, lazy mom's version of a humidifier!) because neither of us could breathe.
Sorry, I'm trying not to have a huge pity party here. I'm just bitter because when we finally fell asleep this morning after steam room session #2, Aaron came bouncing in, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, laid down next to me and woke up the baby. On purpose. GAH! The he decided to take Declan in the shower with him, and I was thinking, "Okay, this is good, I'll get some sleep while he showers with Declan and plays with him, I forgive him..." Not four seconds later, I hear banging on the wall between the bathroom and bedroom. "NAAATALIE! He's ready to get OUUUT!" It took all of my strength to heave my exhausted body out of bed to retrieve my now wide-awake baby.
All of the positive energy I have left in my body is being sent to the Goodriches. After a weekend of ignoring my phone, I turned it on and received a text (which I think was part two of two, as it didn't make much sense) asking for my prayers. So I've been sending prayers, vibes, and any other form of energy I can muster up out into the universe.