Tuck has Strep. And that blasted awful h1n1. And swollen tonsils have given him (temporary) obstructive sleep apnea - which means he has exceedingly long pauses between breaths in his sleep.
Which means he stops breathing after every 2-3 breaths. For longer than I can explain to you.
Which means I would rather sleep on the floor beside him than lay awake down the hall and wonder if his lungs need a reminder to do their job.
The lesson to be learned in all this: Tucker knows when he's sick. Verbal skills bring a clarity worth listening to.
And, mother's intuition is an undeniable force.
How I love this boy. And his very healthy (albeit a little snotty) little brother, who said today, "I feel sick like Tucker. Just for a little while. Give me medicine, please. And chapstick."
The need for nurturing is contagious.
My plate is full. My heart is bursting. (And this is different from my heart being full and my cup overflowing. A subtle difference. But the effect is polarized.)
I'm pretty much toast.