On the verge of October and I barely noticed September. We have been stricken with illness. Dad at the end of our holidays, you for seven days beginning on our first day back to work, followed by Nana. Then when things were looking all right, I got it. Bad. Laid out for ten days, I couldn't eat, couldn't move, couldn't keep anything in, even ended up in the emergency room for 12 hours on Thursday for a few litres of much-needed fluids by IV and lots of blood work and cultures.
While I'm feeling much better now, maybe 70%, I'm still pretty weak and tired. Dad's been a superstar, taking care of you and everything else. He's taken you swimming, to Moose Jaw with Nana (to visit cousin Zander, who you call Flounder), shopping, to fly your kite... It goes on and on.
And you've been pretty sweet, too. While I moaned away in the bathroom, you said, "I'll just hold your hand, Mom." And it worked, that did make me feel better.