6 Months

Yesterday was Lucas's 6 month birthday. I can't believe how much and how quickly he has changed. This week he had a nasty cold, the one I had been dreading since I knew I was pregnant. I am a WIMP and clueless when it comes to caring for the sick (mind you I come from a family of two take-charge nurses and one take-charge doctor) . I once fainted in my brother's hospital room, where I woke up to him leaning over the bed and cheering me on as I came to on the floor, my poor sister-in- law holding up my legs with my jeans unzipped and my mom and sister giving me his oxygen mask. I remember trying to give him his medicine once and feeling the beads, no bullets, of sweat forming and dripping down my forehead. I was fired from the job going forward. He could smell my fear.

So my poor sniffling, sneezing, stuffyheaded, coughing, diarrhea having, vomiting, solids protesting, staring off into space little baby boy (I'm sure there are grammar errors there, feel free to correct) brought me back to that moment of realization I had during my labor:

"There's no running away. Focus. Do it."

Yesterday I repeatedly caught vomit in my hands, in my hair, in my clothes and then held him tight, and said, "It's okay," hoping he wouldn't pick up on the little bit of doubt in my voice. He's tremendously better, I must say. And even though it it may sound bad, this little boy was still playing, chuckling and "smizing (Tyra term for "smiling with one's eyes)" like crazy through it all.

Every day he teaches me that I can do more and be better than I think.