Learning the hard way

So, today was not the best day. Nope, not a happy one for Mr. Monk and therefore not a happy one for me. It started out all well and good, with lots of oatmeal eating, dog tail pulling and furniture cruising. But, as soon as we got to our friends' BBQ, it was all downhill. The hub and I took turns watching the little sleep in the car as we have previously learned our lesson about waking that sleeping babe. He woke up about an hour after we got there and we thought he would be cherry chipper after such an awesome nap. Yet, no.

He started whining the minute he woke up and wouldn't stop. I tried everything I could to calm him, but he was pretty much inconsolable. I played it off, all mellow mama-like, "He's fine. Just a little fussy. He's usually such a happy baby. Dude, how hot is Eric on True Blood?" I wanted him to be fine so I could enjoy myself. After an hour of non-stop whining, I started to think maybe he wasn't so fine. I suddenly noticed that his cheeks were super flushed and his head felt HOT to the touch. And, then I realized that my poor baby had been trying to tell me that he was actually sick for the past hour and I was too busy socializing to notice. Bad mama.

Turns out he did have a fever, but it went down to almost normal a few hours later. Man, teeth are evil. He's sleeping now and hopefully dreaming about penguins, igloos and other cool things.

When I was putting him to sleep, he kept looking up to check and see if I was still there. It hit me as I stared into his squinty eyes that I'm really his mother. I'm the one who is supposed to make everything alright. The one who puts down the glass of wine and leaves the party when her kid is sick. The one who does everything in her power to protect him from harm. The one who sings "The Wheels on the Bus" for the whole hour ride home just to put a smile on his face. It was as though someone turned on the light in that dark room and showed me that my relationship with this boy is just getting started.