Wednesday, June 4, 2008

A Song for Mama

The Mister left for another business trip on Monday. The day before, Sunday, he spent the better part of the afternoon playing with Mikey in the backyard, hoping to make up in a few games of baseball whatever he might miss in the next few days. We noticed Mikey wasn't acting like himself when he came back inside, but we attributed it to hours and hours of nonstop physical activity. Turns out is was the beginning of a bad allergy attack brought on by something outside.

By the next morning, his nose and eyes were watering. He was sneezing constantly and had a tight cough. Naturally, I was hosting the end-of-the-year school party on Wednesday. Forty adults and children, including the teachers, principal, and school secretary and I had a questionably sick preschooler and the Mister wouldn't be returning until Wednesday night.

Monday was a blur of activity. I had planned to clean and clean and then clean some more. Instead, I spent it with Mikey on the sofa while he sneezed into tissue after tissue. When he wasn't sneezing, he was crying about his eyes constantly watering. In the afternoon, I dropped him off at my mom's and went back home to get ready for the party--hoping I would at least get enough ahead that I could finish another job I am working on. Didn't happen. I went back to my mom's and decided to just stay the night. Nico must have sensed something was amiss, because the entire day he behaved like an angel and promptly went to sleep without a peep or complaint.

Mikey slept with my mom, and they were up most of the night.

The next day, Tuesday, I waited until Mikey fell asleep at around lunch time and took the opportunity to run home, do some work for clients, and do some more cleaning. Midway through a letter, my phone rang. The rug I had ordered was about to be delivered early, and the delivery people wouldn't place it for me. So, there I was, moving furniture and 9x13 rugs all over the house with a pile of work to do and 40 people showing up in less than 24 hours. After moving every piece of furniture in my family and dining room twice, I grabbed Nico and headed over to the store to buy food for the party. Luckily it didn't take long to buy the food because my mom called and asked me to come home quick--something was wrong with Mikey.

When I got there, his eyes were almost swollen shut and were pouring water. His breathing wasn't labored, but his cough didn't sound good. He was also curled up in a ball in my mom's lap, screaming that his ear hurt. I made a mental note to rip the Mister's head off, again, for being out of town--even though it was completely out of his control.*

I rushed Mikey home and gave him his allergy medications and some albuterol. I put Nicholas to bed (again, an angel all day) and settled Mikey down in his bed while I tried to get the house ready for the party. By 10:30, I couldn't do anymore. I pushed myself until midnight, and decided to go to bed when I heard Mikey calling me.

"Mama, will you snuggle with me?"

"Of course, sweetheart." I know his allergy medications wire him up. I was hoping, but not expecting, a full night of sleep.

So we talked. And we giggled. And we tangled ourselves up repeatedly in the blankets and welcomed the breeze from a sheet-parachute. Finally, at around 2:30am, Mikey snuggled deep into my side and looked up at me in the soft, blue light of the moon that filters through blinds we need to replace.

"Mama, will you sing me a song?"

"Of course, sweetheart. Which song would you like?"

"Ah, ro ro." A spanish lullaby my mom always sang to me, and I sing to the boys. When I was done, he asked for Twinkle-Twinkle Little Star. Again, I obliged. Finally, his favorite, a song I made up one night to the tune of Fere Jacques.

"Mama? Will you sing I love Mikey?"

I love Mikey,
I love Nico,
Very much!
Very much!

I love daddy, too. I love daddy, too.

They're my boys.
They're my boys.

"I like that song, mama."

"I know you do. I like it, too."

"I have a song for you, mama."

I love Nico.
I love Nico.
Very much!
Very much!

I love daddy, too. I love daddy, too.

And I love mama.
I love mama.

And that is how, at 3am and by the light of the moon, we both fell asleep with watery eyes.

* The Mister begged and pleaded and got out early. I was running around this morning trying to get everything ready when I heard the door open and watched in disbelief as he tossed on the table two days worth of mail I forgot to pick up, all the while flashing a grin that said he just picked up 1,000 extra bonus points.