Today you missed school. You are home. You have the flu. You are very worried about having the flu. Last year, in 2nd grade, a friend and classmate of yours died. He had the flu. His name was Lucio. It was very scary. We went to the funeral, but you didn't make it inside. You were so upset that you threw up before we got there, so Daddyman sat with you in the car while I went inside to Lucio's funeral.
We've had our flu shots. You are going to be fine. I just hate worrying about you. I wish that I could wave a magic wand over you like the Fairy Queen and make you feel better.
Tonight, you are sleeping in my bed with me. I feel better having you sleep near me. I feel like I can protect you from feeling unwell if I can keep you close to me.
I sometimes forget that you are still a little girl. You are so strong and smart and sensitive and funny and responsible and articulate. I love spending time with you. You are a great thinker. You are very independent - in fact, when you were born I told your godmother that you were going to have to decide to be a part of our family, because you were probably going to be just as happy being out in the world on your own.
Well, I've grown up a little and I know now that you need to be scooped up and loved - maybe even more than your sisters who demand my attention. In fact, I'm going to go back upstairs and scoop you up and love you a little more.
