Made in Richmond

It’s been a rough few days.

Last Wednesday JR started showing signs of a wicked case of the grumps. We assumed it was teeth (which wasn’t completely off), gave him some Motrin and went about our business.

The grumps continued steadily until Saturday evening. And then Saturday evening marked the beginning of a multi-day crying streak that has yet to cease.

The child is sick. SIIIIIIIIIICK. Sick in a way that has made up for the complete lack of sick we have experienced in the almost 15 months he’s been with us. Fever, cough, crying, runny nose, runny eyes (yes, babies can leak snot out of their eyes - I didn’t know that either and it’s just as horrifying as it sounds), crying, not wanting to eat, crying, only wanting to be held, crying, the works. He’s also waking up a couple times a night, shrieking for someone to wipe to boogers out of his eyes or suck the snot out of his head because, hello, he wakes up not being able to see or breathe.

(I told Ross that it’s all reminding me way too much of what life was like with a newborn. I hope this doesn’t ruin JR’s chances for ever getting a sibling. It’s possible.)

But what’s worse is that he is just not himself. There are no animal noises, no shouting of “THIS,” and not one single laugh. Not even a giggle. It’s depressing.

Meanwhile, I’ve become a mad woman. I haven’t left the house for more than two hours in six days. I can’t go to work. I can’t sleep because I lie awake anticipating the whimper from the next room. My work is so half-assed it’s ridiculous. And I’m being mean to everyone.

So, be patient with me (although I doubt I would be patient with you if we met in person because RAWR). I’ll be back soon.