The day before the first official "team gathering" for my new gig, Q. comes down with a a cough and runny nose. It progresses to a fever. He is up all night crying, achy breaky, talking in his sleep. He comes into our bed at 5 a.m. to cuddle, still sporting the raging fever.
I have a photo shoot a few hours later and am consumed by thoughts of my little guy home sick. I'm used to being the caregiver -- it feels odd not being home to offer snuggles and love. This week is about Murphy's Law. An "it never fails" moment where mama has a can't-be-missed agenda and her little one gets the worst. bug. ever. With a little pout and "I want Maaaaaaaama" thrown in for good measure.
I thank my good fortune at having a husband who can work from home in a pinch when our kids are sick and I need to go into the office.
I throw myself to the mercy of the Airborne queens and kings, begging for the rest of the family to be spared of this nasty little illness.
And I say a most special prayer for the makeup artist who rocks the eye concealer to hide my dark circles after a late night.
