Claire is sick with some kind of stomach bug, and like other times when she's been sick, I'm so thankful to have a washer and dryer in the basement. And I'm glad I didn't throw away all of the old sheets and towels last time I organized the closet.
Claire is a really sweet sick person, as far as moods go. She'll quietly go through a list of questions about her symptoms as she is falling asleep, and then assures me that "Its not your fault I'm sick, Mom. I just got some bad germs." She almost always appears more calm than I feel inside, which is comforting to me, though I know it should be the other way around. She has always been a very healthy kid, so even at four years old, I'm just not used to her being sick. So I do what I can, which doesn't feel like much. A back rub, a song, a cool pillow and some clean-up is just about all that is required. But she appreciates it. As she snuggles down under the covers, she'll reach a warm hand up to rub my cheek and say "Thanks Mom", and I feel like I should call my mom and thank her for doing the same for me. But I'm guessing she would appreciate it more if I called at a time other than 12:30am.