After the sudden cold came over LittleBrother (in church; again, my apologies), the poor Booey had to stay home from school on Monday. Paler than usual, eyes red and watery, sneezing every five seconds and coughing just as much, he also ended up with a fever.

But I was supposed to wear my Mario shirt to school today! My new one!” Big, sad eyes looked up at me. I couldn’t tell the difference between the tears and the sickness.

Sorry, Boo. You can wear it on Wednesday. If you’re feeling better.

He actually went back to bed for awhile. And slept. That’s when I knew he was feeling pretty poorly. I worked in my office and fielded texts from my husband who was, as fire life fate usually has it, working. The morning continued in a quiet, uneventful manner. Eventually my youngest son woke up with a lowered temperature and a smile on his face.

You know, Mommy. I have to lay on the couch and watch TV. Because that’s what you do when you’re sick.” His eyes showed a bit more of his usual spark, and I smiled back.

I made him a little nest on our couch with my favorite green afghan and his green blankie all tucked in around him. I got his tissue box and his water bottle. I found some of his favorite shows. I told him to call for me if he needed me, but let him know I’d be checking on him every 15 minutes. I wandered back to my office and got back to work.

Two trips in to check on him found him in the same spot, a pile of barely used tissues growing next to him.

Before the third trip, his little voice sounded from the living room.

Mommy! I don’t want blankies anymore.

My heart leaped into my throat. No blankies?! I mean, sure! He’s five. He’s going to outgrow those gorgeous, soft, satiny, beautiful blankies at some point in his life. But now? I’m not prepared for now. They were just washed! If we pack them away now, they won’t even smell like him! I jumped up from my computer and went running into the living room. My voice leaned toward shrill.

What do you mean you don’t want blankies anymore?!

He looked at me like I had four heads. He pointed down at my beautifully crocheted, very heavy green afghan. “I don’t want this blankie anymore. I’m hot.


I took off the heavy afghan, felt his forehead and began cleaning up his pile of tissues. He stretched out on the couch, his long, lean body taking up more length than I remember. Even last week. He’s growing too quickly; I can’t keep up, I thought. My mind began to wonder to other sick days spent cuddling him and loving him and generally mothering him. Those days feel far away.


I came back to present day, pulled out of my memories by the little voice below me on the couch.

Will you cuddle with me?

Cuddling with my sick Booey.

Always, Bubba.


8 replies on “Always”

My LB has been waking up in our bed in the middle of the night to say, “Momo, want to hold hands?” or “Momo, will you hold me?” And my answer, too, is, always. I am treasuring those moments and I loved your post. Hope everyone is well at your house now.

[…] This post by Jenna reminded me to document the sweet things LB has been saying to me this week when waking up in the middle of the night on the nights we sleep together. On multiple occasions (because she often wakes several times a night) she will say, “Momo, will you hold me?” as she scoots her little bum closer to me. I wrap my arm tightly around her and hug her close to me, relishing her closeness and the cozy warmth of her body next to mine. […]

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