On the ball

Son#3 woke up looking like a Baby Hitler, a crust of blood under his nose, that must have sneaked in between 3 and 6 a.m.
That's about the time during which he and I slept.
He has a fever and cough.
I'm debating whether I should phone the doctor??
I can't afford another missed day at work...

 
Meanwhile, Son#1 and I (and I realize it's not my smartest move, considering the humungous flu that I carry around myself), drove to 's-Hertogenbosch (beautiful city, so by the way) for his rugby tournament yesterday.
I stood in wind and rain and 7 degrees for almost 4 hours.
We almost didn't go, but something in me said, No, if you are part of a team, you need to show up.
And it's a lesson for Son#1 as well:  

Sometimes you have to do stuff you just may not feel like doing.

I never, ever thought these words would come out of my mouth, but I finally understand how sport builds character.

The husband went to a Heather Nova concert in Breda last night, not knowing who Heather Nova is.
He'll be back later, most probably quite happily hung-over and having slept very little himself.

I'll be booking my mother's flight to us in April.
I miss her, and my dad.
I was so lucky with the parent-card that was dealt me.
Lucky beyond belief.


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