On Friday, my 2.5 year old daughter gave up her binky.
On Tuesday, I found a tick on my son.
Yeah, it's been one of those weeks.
Sometimes, being a parent is exhausting. Emotionally and physically. When my poor daughter was crying for her pacifier, all I wanted to do was cave. If I hadn't already thrown it into the garbage who knows what I would have done. Six days later, she's still adjusting. Naps aren't going well and there's dramatic scenes at bedtime. My poor baby girl.
When I found the tick I think I stopped breathing for a moment. Being from NY, where Lyme disease is rampant, I panicked. I grabbed a pair of tweezers and yanked. Thankfully, I removed the whole thing. A visit to the Doctor reassured me it hadn't been there long. I'm officially stalking my son's temperature and overall well being for the next two weeks.
*deep breath*
Children should come with warning labels; as in "these cute little people will twist and pull at your heart, give you indigestion, make you doubt every decision you have ever made, and cause you immeasurable amounts of stress." If that wasn't enough, then they "borrow" your beloved stuffed rabbit, so not only are they suffering but now you are too. Awesome.
Then one, or both, of them give you a kiss and tuck their little hand into yours and suddenly it's all worth it. Even if you have to sleep without your rabbit.
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