My baby is sick.
Nothing serious or even long-term, but sick enough to want me to hold him always and nurse him forever. Most of the time, I don't mind doing it--in fact, I enjoy nurturing my sick children. He is the most precious thing, but our very restless sleeping has taken its toll.
Yet, here it is, nearly midnight, and I am wide awake.
Chubby baby boy is fast asleep, my bed is warm and soft, the house is basically tidy, the laundry is basically caught up and you'd think I could sink right into that peaceful place.
My independent brain has decided now is a great time to blink between the four websites I visit, searching for something new and interesting
and finding nothing.
I don't want to start the Christmas Eve sewing project that I desperately need to start. It is too late at night to begin a project like that.
Usually, when I'm awake late at night, I have Isaac to visit with on Facebook or Skype. He is exactly 12 hours ahead of us so it is right in the middle of the day for him.
But his internet bill is due and he didn't get down to the kiosk to pay it yet.
So, I'll finish my drawling and post these darling pictures of our very busy boy from a couple of days ago when he wasn't feeling cruddy.
This face will brighten anyone's mood.
It doesn't really help me sleep, but it sure makes me happy!
Aaand . . .
there he is, waking up. Oh, well. I wasn't doing anything anyway.