It's 2:30 am, Eastern Time.
What began as my 6-year-old daughter's mild sore throat has developed into razor-sharp pain accompanying what sounds like pertussis.
She is bundled, now, on my lap, wrapped in her favorite comfy clothes inside a Thomas the Train comforter, like an oversized wedding appetizer.
Her crying has quieted.
We are sitting outside, on the front porch; the cool air soothing her cough.
Before the glow of my laptop (which is resting on her small legs) contributed a small dose of light pollution, we were examining the streelight reflections on the road outside our home, trying to determine whether it is raining, or only sounds like it is. We have both determined the rain drops are only the sounds of the trees shaking off the remnants of the several inches of precipitation which fell throughout the day.
The tree are getting rid of the weather, like big green wet dogs.
This is part of parenting.
We have all experience our child's illness, which always seems to choose the wee hours to reach maturity.
So, we all sit, and comfort, fulfilling a bushel of need; an armload of want; and a smattering of obligation.
Tomorrow may be painful; but these midnight moments are about healing.
This is also why we blog.
Because when our child grows sleepy, and the rest of the neighborhood has been dreaming deeply for hours; we look for someone to whisper to.
That someone is you, Dear Reader.
So, it is the three of us for these few minutes; a dad; his bundled daughter; and a distant friend, surfing the blogosphere.
It's 2:30 AM. This is how we parent. This is why we blog.
Because through the sharing, we all feel a little better.
Good night.
