Mama didn't say

Mama didn't say

... there'd be days like this. Where your baby is screaming and you don't know what is wrong.

Where you have been up all night with a total of 2 hours sleep, and your hair is bigger than texas because you have been sitting in a steam bath to help your baby breathe better.

That your husband's week off vacation to celebrate your 31st birthday, would be filled with a baby that has a spiking fever and won't eat because it hurts him.

That you would be running to the pediatrician's office, with sick baby in tow and big nasty matted hair and bags that look like luggage under your eyes, in a practical walking coma, hoping PRAYING that your baby will maybe sleep tonight.

My baby is sick. And when my babies are sick, I feel ten times worse than they do. Because I wish I had a magical potion to make them smiley and shiney again.

Off to the Ped. Hopefully they can diagnose Ryan, so he and I can both get sleep. Before I turn 31 tomorrow and find grey hairs on my head.