My bulletproof baby

I’m bone tired this morning.  I had a difficult time falling asleep and was up well past midnight.  A couple hours later, Pea woke me up.   She was wide awake, in what I have come to think of, as her pain position, knees up on a pillow, legs restlessly writhing.  Calmly staring at me.  Normally, our night time adventures start with her screaming incoherently about something that makes no sense (i.e. her hatred of the zombie head mug I got for Christmas or she wanted a popsicle).  Once the spazz attack subsides, she admits that she is in pain.

I don’t know how long she’s been up or how long she’s been trying to wake me.  I guess the spazz attacks are more effective.

“Mommy, my legs are hurting.”

“Do you want cold or hot, baby?”

“Hot.”

And so I got up to rummage around in the cold dark for the heating pad and hold her while she whimpered that it was taking too long.  Her legs finally stilled.  We finally fell back asleep.

…only to wake up a couple hours later to bring Pork Chop to school.

Driving home, there was no music or conversation.  Just the soft hiss of the heater, and the tick tick tick of the turn signal while we idled at a red light…then

“Shoot me down but I won’t fall. I am titaniiiiiiiiiummmm… ” drifted from my little Eskimo girl.  So I put the song on for her and she sang while I smiled.

We’ve been on a Frozen “Let it go” kick for a while.  We’ve also been flare free a while too.

That little voice, which is as petite as she is herself, sings “I am Titanium” at the most appropriate times–maybe to remind herself of her strength or maybe to remind me.

“Ricochet.  Fire away, fire away.”

This is why I quit my job.  So that on mornings like this, after nights like last, I can bring my baby girl home with me to rest on the couch…and feel no guilt at all.