Hoping

It's been a long week already. A week that seems to pick up in the same sad place that last week left off on. A week that seems to show no pity and no respect for the little body that has been housing sickness, feeling miserable for almost five days now. I'm hoping today brings some improvement to Little Chicken's health.

Lola spent her birthday fevered and vomiting. Heartbreaking, I know. And as I sat there, unable to take the pain and discomfort from her, I realized in that moment how utterly helpless I felt. I realized that my usual craftiness, my ability to distract, my bag of tricks, were suddenly gone. Useless. Unable to crack that smile I love so much.

  Today, I am hoping that the cards are dealt in my favor. That my child, her spirit, the essence of who she is, is rightfully returned and I begin to see her once again. I'm hoping that today, her little lifeless body, limp-limbed and heavy-eyed, begin to seep the glimmer of hope- the glimmer of my child.

That we can pick up where we left off. That our days will be filled with art and books, and music, and walks, and laughter. With little moments of joy and satisfaction. With no sense of uneasiness. With no feeling of guilt.

I'm hoping that today, Little Lo begins to feel better. I'm really missing that kid.