A few weeks ago, Lucy was sick. She'd thrown up the night before enough to necessitate a carpet cleaner, a bath, and then a vodka lemon drop...the latter was for me, not Lucy. We finally got her back to sleep, and all was fine.
Lucy always wakes up first, and sometimes early. I'm usually ready for it. But the next morning, after the barf and the vodka lemon drop, I awoke to find my daughter staring at me.
"Mommy, I'm awake, and I FEEL BETTER!" She sang to me.
We went downstairs for some cuddling and some PBS cartoons. I fixed her some water and still feeling for the poor girl from her Linda Blair recreation from the night before, I let her drink it on the couch. (Big mistake, she's been suckering me ever since.) She took a big gulp and then gasped because she drank so much she had to catch her breath. You know that point where you're so thirsty, you're willing to sacrifice air to get some water in your system. After a minute or two, she'd caught her breath and looked at me and continued to sing, "You know what makes me better, Mommy?"
"Yes I do, sweetie. Rest made you better."
"Nope."
"Okay, medicine made you better."
"Nooooooooo."
"Hmm, did that water make you better?"
"No, Mommy. Do you know what makes me all better?"
"Well, you tell me what made you better, sweetie."
"LOVE!" she sang.
And enter large important motherhood/life lesson by 3-year-old at 6a.m. before coffee.
That's how I roll.
