My Little Girl

O managed to catch a nasty little cold at the exact moment I was beginning to think she'd made it through the colds season unscathed. The sounds of a tight, barking cough woke me from my sleep and I sighed as I tried to figure out which one had decided to wake up sick.

The pitter patter of feet told me it was O (fortunately, Joseph has yet to find a way out of his crib....no blarma, no blarma) and as she climbed into bed with me, she confirmed the truth with a horse "Good morning" coupled with some additional coughs for good measure.

So, we made an easy day of things and did not venture out (it was cold and raining anyway, which made the decision simple) and I watched and waited for any signs that a doctor's visit might be in order.

There were none. She played, she sang, she gave me a hard time about finishing breakfast...the usual stuff. And, as the morning folded into early afternoon with not a single cough or gravel voice, I was actually contemplating allowing her to go to dance class.

Well, I'm still not sure what adventures she found in her naptime dreams, but she awoke with absolutely no voice. It was so odd. My little chatterbox was silenced and Joseph and I didn't know how to handle the quiet.

There were puzzles, too much television, and lots of reading....but there was no Oisms for the better part of an hour....and it was so sad.

As much as I'd love a quiet moment to get lost in my thoughts, I missed my garrulous girl. Like a city person itching for the sound of an ambulance or gun shots while visiting the serenity of the countryside, I was eager to have her voice return.

As with everything after children, even the rhythms of my syncopated rhythms of my day have changed....and for the better.