March0806 012 (Photo credit: ShellyS)

You would think that was the question when I asked Flower Child what she wanted for breakfast this morning.  In Mrs. Fringe’s little world, this is a bad sign. She almost always wants breakfast, even if she has no intention of eating it, she likes to know it’s there at her spot; her morning routine no matter what the day brings.

Today she’s sick. We had our last beach hoorah yesterday, and it was a beautiful day. The waves weren’t too strong, just enough to make it fun. The sun was strong but the breeze was constant.  She was listless within 45 seconds of heading home, asleep within 5 minutes once we arrived.  This morning she’s my little puddle on the couch. The joys of medical needs parenting. Neuro crud, ptosis (connected to neuro crud), fever, that faint but definitive gray tinge to her skin, holding my breath to see if this is “just” a cold or virus.

I hope so, and sometimes it is. Other times, for no known reason, it turns into strange flus, pleurisy, pneumonia.

I’m a mom, first and foremost. I’m also a (wannabe) writer, wife, friend, dog walker, reefer, chief cook and bottle washer; human being.

Some moms will say all is well with their world when their kids are doing well.  I’m not one of them, sometimes my world sucks even if all is well with the kiddos.  But when all isn’t well with them, there’s no question. My heart is doing triple time up around my esophagus, and life sucks.

Wilting Flower (Photo credit: theinvisiblewombat)