This week I had several reasons to reflect on my childrens' mortality. That sounds dramatic, and for me, I guess it was.
First, when I got to flee reality for 48 hours when I went with my lovely friend Melissa to Moab. Moab is very near the top of my favorite places on the planet. Especially in early Spring, and especially with a good friend who also appreciates the magic of Red Rock Country. So it was a really good thing. Except that my two babies stayed behind with Grandma. I missed them so much I ached. Only a bad cliche works here--I felt like a part of me was missing. I had to give myself a pep talk in order to fully enjoy the trip without worrying that something was going to happen to them while I was gone.
When I got back Eliza got sick. She had an awful headache/sore throat and alternated for two days between shivering with the chills and sweating from heat. Last night I kept getting up to check on her and got really scared at how hot she was.
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