Tonight I'm playing with my new toy - typing this post on my shiny new iPad which arrived at my front door this very afternoon. Lest I lead anyone down the erroneous thought-path that I could actually afford this pricey and most unnecessary piece of technology, I actually won this in a sweepstakes - an unexpected, yet fun, blessing.
The delivery man rang the doorbell just in time, too, as I was in the midst of a lazing session and was highly unmotivated to pick myself up off the couch to pick up our scattered belongings before impending company. You should have seen me, though, fly from the couch at the sound of the ringing bell - I had a sneaking suspicion of what could be waiting. And I promised myself this would be my motivation, I couldn't play until I had cleaned.
And then my son woke up.
First a little frustrated at his waking earlier than necessary, my priorities quickly shifted when I heard the sound of his cry - not the normal I'm-still-sleepy cry or the stick-a-paci-in-me-and-I'll-be-fine cry, but a wail filled with the echoes of a stuffy nose and a drainage-induced hoarseness. My little boy was sick and all I wanted to do was anything motherly possible to quench that ache inside him.
There were no apps to download, e-books to read or silly games to play.
Just my son.
And he needed me.
And, in that moment, being there for him was all I needed - all I wanted - to do.
Funny how children completely redefine the essence of importance.
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