That title is the six word story of my day.
I'm not really a six word sort of girl, as it turns out. I could write quite a few, describing the painful-looking blisters on her hands, feet, elbows, and mouth (don't worry, I'll restrain myself). I could write quite a bit about the ninja-like quality of this little virus. It poses as strep for a day or two, first a fever, then a sore throat, then just when you've bullied the local minute clinic provider into giving you antibiotics even though the strep test was negative...
BAM! Hand, foot, and mouth. Ugh. The antibiotics are no good to us. This must run it's course.
As it turns out, a family of five is sick quite a long time as various viruses work their way through the clowder (according to Wikipedia a group of cats is called a "clowder"... who knew?!)
No more whining. My real six word story is this:
My girl will heal. Baby too.
Until then, here is a poem I helped her write. We've been reading a lot of poetry together. One day a month or so ago, we wrote poems patterned after our favorites. Here is Elle's.
Remember Spring (Inspired by Remember Summer)
by Elliot Rose (and Mom)
Remember those first seeds we planted
The musty, dusty smell of the earth
as we turned it over
finding red spiders, brownish, pinkish worms
wriggling for freedom.
Remember our rows, not too straight
as if the seeds and soil were as happy as us to run free outside again.
That was spring.
She'll be free outside again before long.