Reni has his first cold. He got it from his sister, who has been sneezing and snuffling and whining and rubbing her eyes and keeping us all up at night. Now they're both up a dozen or more times before the sun streams over the mountains and through our kitchen windows, and I'm trying really really hard to remind myself that we've got it good and we are normally healthy and we will return to some sense of normalcy soon. Now I'm sick and Armando is nearly there and I'm left wondering how one little toddler can fell an entire house.
Anyway, that's a parable for another day. Poor Reni is obviously confused. He snorts, he sneezes tiny little sneezes, coughs dry little coughs, and lets out these cries that are so obviously saying, 'owie, mama, what's going on here?' Usually a dream sleeper, he's up at least twice an hour any time he tries to nap or sleep at night, and when I'm not with him or trying to help Armando (or listen to Armando attempt to) put Anika back to sleep, I'm wide-eyed in the dark listening to his every little breath and making sure he doesn't drown in the incredible amount of snot this cold is producing. Gross, yes, but if you're a mom you know that at least 1/4 of your conversations revolve around some sort of body expulsion or function or malfunction. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to get some more Kleenex.
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