The demon stayed home. She isn't dying, but she's sick all the same. It's now 1p.m., not a.m., p.m. and whats going on? She's sleeping and I'm not. I'm tired, so is she - but she's sleeping on the couch, snoring away like a baby, probably having some sweet dream. She's all comfy and warm under a quilt... ok partly warm because of the fever she has, but warm just the same.
And here I sit. Tired, not warm but very tired.
I hate being a mom.