To Sleep

"In the bleak midwinter, frosty winds made moan...."  So has my three year old, ailing with a runny nose and itchy, gooey eyes.  Anguish has come upon this house, weeping and gnashing of teeth.   (Him weeping, me biting my nails because I can't handle the stress of the constant high-pitched whine sounding throughout the day and night.)  Every ten minutes in the night comes a plea for help and comfort, a plea that, at times, I long to ignore.  Oh to replace the chill of the cold air and the wetness of a snotty nose for the serenity of warm flannel sheets and a down comforter, guiding me to a night full of dreamful bliss.  If only one sweet song or one loving kiss was enough to quell the pain and sorrow of a small child in the midst of an internal battle.  If only I could send in my own troops to vanquish the enemy, or at least, to remove the voice box of the despondent so that even one of us could get sleep.  So little sympathy you say?  And yet in a battle, does not one soldier rest while the other keeps guard, so that not everyone will be too exhausted for the war?  Think of the benefits of a well-rested mother!

Hopefully this war will not rage much longer, because my energy is dwindling with every passing hour.  Oh germs, have mercy!  Have mercy on a weary mother!  For with one wailing child, always comes another.  How tired my arms are from carrying one needy child all day while attempting to nurse another.  Let darkness come over this night that we would not wake but for morning light.  Let us wake with renewed energy, and opened sinuses for all.