Hubbie was ill today. Scared the life out of me last night when he did not feel "right" but couldn't figure out why or what was going on. "I can't lose you too...." kept running through my head. Turns out to be an odd version of the flu.... I'm relieved... him... not so much as he is still feeling terrible.

Interesting twist was that he was our childcare source for the day. I was scheduled to work, as I do 5 annoying and full days every week, and daycare is closed for the week.

I packed up my youngest, now twenty months old, and packed him into the office. Surprise!

Taking sick days to assist one's family members seems to somehow be a sign of weakness in today's work a day world. Definately difficult when you're a mom. I have no desire to rock the boat in terms of being gainfully employed so until I find some other means of supporting myself... I'll play along and be the "good trooper". Despite my detest for this patriarchal crap.

Oddly enough my little guy behaved beautifully and made it through an entire day of work with me. Well, productivity was certainly not at an all time high but hey- the bases were covered.

On my commute home I had a strange sense of relief. Having my youngest along with me all day today at my work setting was somehow therapy, especially this time of year. Four years ago I was wrapped up in my newly received promotion at work. Pregnant and ready to have my wonderful baby and still working long hours only to have the rug snapped out from under me when I found out he had died. Now so many of my associations with that time in my life are relived this time of year as many of the tasks I do at work repeat themselves annually.

Having my second son with me for the day in that setting somehow interjected that as I honor and remember Andrew, life begins where death has had the upper hand. Loving again, both my second son and my first.............. brings life.

My hubbie is better, thank goodness. And I listened to Andrew "telling" me today that everything is ok. It's ok to love him and keep moving forward. It hurts and that's ok, and sometimes I feel ok, and that's ok too.

I miss you Andrew. Love to you this cool winter evening when I wish I was putting you in some soft jammies and tucking you in with a kiss goodnight.