Only a Mother

Only a mother would think to take a temperature when a child is sick.

Even when daddy insists the child is fine.

Only a mother would drive to the only open grocery store at 11:30 pm to buy her child ibuprofen to help his fever go down.

Even after already washing her makeup off.

And not sure if she actually got all that eye makeup off really well.

Only a mother wouldn't care about the funny looks from the 20-year-old cashier.

Only a mother would constantly get up with her child as he cried off and on through the night.

Even if daddy doesn't hear the cries.

Only a mother would still be able to wake up at 6am with the other children.

Only a mother would be able to put off drinking coffee until the sick child was okay to not be held.

Only a mother would think of tricky things like putting ibuprofen in chocolate milk to get the child to take the medicine.

Only a mother would remain calm after seeing the sick baby put his fingers inside of his poopy diaper.

Only a mother would lovingly clean the poop of the child's hands.

And off the floor.

And get the child a new shirt.

(Gross)

Only a mother would sit inside on a gorgeous, sunny day and cancel all plans she had with friends.

Only a mother would still attempt to blog while the baby insists on being held.

All.

Morning.

Long.

Only a mother would sacrifice the quality of a blog post by making a quick, short, sorta dumb, and pictureless post for the sake of her sick child.

100 (meaningless) points to whoever can guess which child is sick.

200 (meaningless) points to whoever can come up with a worse Valentine's Day story than the one I posted about yesterday.

In other words . . . talk to me.

I am home.

All day.

With snot.

And crying.

And fevers.

Happy Friday!