The Healing Power of a Sister

I am typing this after just having finished cleaning vomit out of my couch.  Just another evening in mom land.  How, you ask, is this going to lead up to anything beautiful?  Well that is the whole point of this project, I guess.  Take something taxing, or downright disgusting, and learn to see the beauty in it.  That, or go completely insane.  So let me backtrack, to a moment before my couch stunk to high heaven, and explain. 

My poor baby boy has somehow acquired a nasty bug, complete with fever, congestion, no appetite, and the beginnings of a chest cough.  To say the least, he is miserable.  We spent most of the day snuggling on the couch, watching movies.  After a trip to the doctor’s this afternoon, I was armed with antibiotics, mucus expectorant, vapor rub, and pain killers.  I wanted my baby to feel better.  We got a few bites of dinner in him, and then I put him in his Dad’s arms on the couch, while I went to get his medications ready.  Tessie put on her ballet slippers, and danced for us, making Christian smile and laugh.  But then he coughed, gagged, and threw up all over his dad’s arm, the couch, and the floor.

I produced towels faster than I knew how, and Nick and I cleaned up our whimpering boy.  Tessie ran over and put her hand on her brother.  “Oh Bubbi,” she said, “I’m so sorry you got sick, poor baby.”  It just about broke my heart.  Once Christian was cleaned up, and in fresh pajamas, I set him back on the couch, on a clean section, and started to ready his nighttime doses.  Tessie got him to laugh again, and lay down next to him on the couch.  By the time I carried Christian to bed, he was happy and ready to sleep.  The power of his sister can do anything, even make him forget he just was sick, and that is beautiful.