Quiet brings ramblings in the rambler

It's getting late. I can't recall the last time Kyle went to bed before me. He only goes before me when he is sick, as is the case this evening.


The kids are both sick too.

I took Cate back to Urgent Care this afternoon--her second trip in five days. Her fever would never go away. Finally, an ear infection was detected today. Poor girl. She was out three days of school last week and missed her first school Valentine's Day party, a school Sock Hop, her basketball game, her date with Kyle to see a play at the Children's Theater and she is now 0-for-2 on attending friend birthday parties. For the most part, she has been a real trooper. And of course, every time she so much as coughs to clear her throat, I get paranoid about her potential of having an asthmatic reaction.


Oh, Urgent Care clinic and Pediatrics office...just retain my bankcard number on file, okay?

But the quiet is nice. I'm not a morning person. No, I also believe if I tried to wake up a few minutes early to seek some solitude, it would not happen. Surely, I would hear the sound of tired little feet tripping my way, climbing up onto the couch and curling into the bend of my legs. It would be nice, but it would not be the quiet that is my companion at the moment.

It seems odd to think the hum from the lightbulb and the click-click-clicking of the handheld keyboard can be so comforting; an even more odd notion of comfort is the never-ending dull roll of the airplanes above arriving to and departing from the airport nearby.

This quiet gives me time to think. I can choose to freak out about everything I should be doing and fret about what I can't control or I can turn it around; let it go and be the best I can be each day, by being good not only to others but also to myself.

I think I am seeing progress here...

Tomorrow is coming, whether I like it or not. I choose to like it.