Jonathan came down with a pretty bad cold on Thursday of last week. By Friday he was miserable and Friday night he hardly slept at all. His nose was so stuffed he had no interest in nursing or eating and barely any interest in smiling. Saturday he was better and slept great Saturday night. Last night his nose was stuffed again. Despite being sick he was as charming this weekend as last weekend at my parents.

He especially enjoyed banging on a pot my dad pulled out for him and stuffing some of the last cherry tomatoes of the season in his mouth. But what he seemed to enjoy most of all was slumping in my grandmother’s chair, half out of it, about to fall asleep, but refusing to admit how exhausted he was.

Today Warren’s got whatever Jonathan has and I imagine I’ll have it before week’s end.When Jonathan woke up at 5:40 a.m. today I prayed that God would give it to me and take it away from him. I hate to see him suffer. He’s so little and there is only so much I can do for him medicine wise. I can take whatever and can deal with the stuffy nose and pain so much better (even if I am super whiney about it). Sitting in the bathroom with him while I tried to steam the snot out of him (literally), I felt my own nose begin to stuff up. “Hey, Lord, that’s not the deal,” I told God. “The deal is not that I be stuffed up with him. I want him to feel better in exchange for me feeling yucky.” We’ll see how that request work and how much I regret it.