up at 3 am with a scratching, crying and exhausted 'lou
last night. he's really in a bad flare
and none of the usual tricks were working.
we tried the green tea soak, tried tv, playing on the iphone, nursing, reading books. he just kept scratching and weeping in that high-pitched keening way that tells you
their discomfort is tortuous. finally i just sat
on the edge of the couch and wrapped him in my arms
and rocked him while i fought back my own tears.
gradually, the sobbing eased and he went limp.
just when i thought he was all dead weight
and i could risk carrying him back to bed with me,
he said in a hushed but clear voice,
"mumma, thank you for helping me when i was sad.
i love you more than dinosaurs."
next time i complain that i don't get paid for my work, remind me of this.