When Willow was about a year old, she spent ten days in the hospital because she was severely anemic. She had stopped growing and was given that awful diagnosis, "Failure To Thrive." When we finally left the hospital after she started to improve, I stole a blanket and one of the little gowns that she’d worn. Just now she found them in her room, in a box of tie dyed cloth diapers that I used as burp cloths. The gown that used to be so big on her now fits like a little shirt. She tucked her Care Bears under the blanket and whispered to them about what they are going to do tomorrow when they wake up. It’s gonna be berry, berry fun at the fair. We’ll ride the ponies. Night -night. Then she just sat in a chair for awhile with the blanket on her lap.
I’m all wiped out with some nasty virus: sore throat, fever, muscle
aches and weakness, headache. I’m so ready to get into bed for the
night, but that’s a few hours away still.