I want Olivia to look back on this blog and know how much her parents love her and adore every single thing about her. That's how I want to remember this time in our lives too. But on a day like today, when I'm so tired my eyes are burning, I think I want to just tell the straight dope. Having a kid is hard. Having a two-year-old is really hard. Olivia's been fighting a cold for almost two weeks now, the kind of cold that includes green snot and wet coughs. I can't even count how many times in the past few days that she's coughed in my face or wiped a booger on my hand.
Last night, she just couldn't keep it together, crying and throwing herself face-first on the floor, so I put her to bed a half hour early and thought some sleep would help. At 1 a.m., she woke up coughing and crying and Chris tried to soothe her. After an hour of her crying, I suggested that we give her some Tylenol and he suggested that I go back to bed, he was handling it. I suggested that he didn't know what he was talking about and that made him suggest that I go to hell. (There's nothing like arguing in the middle of the night. It's comical, really.)
She finally fell asleep in our bed around 2:30 am only to wake again an hour later, crying. She didn't want water, milk, juice, medicine, or even her blankie. Around 4:00 am, we all curled up on the couch and watched a video with cartoon animals riding in wagons. It helped for a little bit but it was clear she was tired. We all were. So I held her, walked around for a bit and then we all got back in bed. I rubbed her little feet and then knew she was asleep when I heard her snore her little snore.
At 7:30 am, she rolled over and put her smiling face right next to mine and said, "Mommy, wook!" and pointed to some shadows on the wall. It was like the night before had never happened.
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