Our normally very verbose little boy was quiet today. He’s caught a bug from his friend Sam. While I cherish the time that he cuddles with me, my heart breaks when I see him feeling sick.
In the mornings he normally walks all over the top floor, talking and throwing all of the toys he can find into the bathtub while I try to get ready for work. He wriggles out of my arms to squeeze his alphabet song dog and then dance along to the music. He downs a bottle of milk as fast as a teenage boy and throws it – with extra drama – to the ground while he stomps to find trouble. He practices brushing his teeth. He giggles. He smiles.
So today, when I saw him sit quietly on the couch and then rest his head, I knew that something was up. He wanted to be in his daddy’s arms all day and when I got home from work, he played for a little while but spent most of the time sitting next to me.
I hope to wake up to his singing tomorrow morning and I wouldn’t even mind waking up to an impatient scream for breakfast & attention.