These are the Hands.

 

hands

These are the hands…. These are the hands that are home with a sick toddler. We have played with temporary tattoos, she has painted my nails. I have nervously bitten my cuticles to destruction as we waited in the urgent care with a fever of 104 and a kiddo on the verge of dehydration. These are the hands that have held her tight while she rested in my lap, that have wrapped her in cool washcloths and learned to decipher a subtle change of one degree just by touching her forehead. And these are the hands that have found a way to carry two babies when both were crying.

It’s just another virus wreaking havoc on a tiny body. Nothing we can’t get through. But these hands tell the story of a couple days in the trenches of being a #mom. The moments nobody sees. The moments that wear you out, yet somehow build you up. Tomorrow she will probably be back to school, and the story on these hands will remain…. Because I’m pretty sure there won’t be time to find the polish remover.

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