Last night, I had a sick little boy in bed with me. Gabe has got a horrific cold. His nose and upper lip are red and raw from all the wiping and the only good thing I can say about his coughing is at least it is limited. Despite all this, he refuses to slow down. I give him medicine because he is so obviously miserable with the drippy nose and runny eyes but then the medicine makes him feel just better enough that he goes bounding out the back door after his brothers. If he would just slow down a bit, he might get better faster. Somehow, I just don't think that's in the cards.
This morning, I woke up with a horrific headache, maybe not a full blown migraine but bad enough. I was drained from our fun and fabulous holiday celebration and, I suspect was trying to catch Gabe's cold. I took some medicine and spent the morning curled up on the couch pretending to be awake and coherent. Luckily, the cold seems to have been beaten back by that fitful rest but the remnants of the headache hung on until late afternoon.
Tonight I find myself sitting here and enjoying the quiet. Joey's been in bed for a while. Marty just went to bed a little while ago. And Gabe, my snuffly nosed sick little guy is asleep and waiting in my bed. While the quiet is to be savored, that's not the only reason I'm still up (and probably will be for quite some time). My husband is at work, working what appears to be a permanent night shift schedule. The reasons for this will fill up a whole other post. Overall, it's honestly a good thing. But, we are only one week in and I miss him at night. I miss having him there next to me when I climb into bed. I miss having him to snuggle up to at night. I feel like such a spoiled, selfish bitch even moaning about this because I know other people are missing their spouses for far worse reasons. I have to figure out how to deal with this new schedule because right now I'm exhausted because I'm missing him at night.