Zoe called out for me in the middle of the night last night. I ran up the stairs, bathrobe hastily thrown on to see what was the matter.
“I had a dream mommy” she tells me quietly, “a dream about flowers and lots of roses and we could smell them! Was that a good dream?
I think about this weekend, with trips to the doctor for both girls (suspected RSV for Hazel, pinkeye for Zoe). I think about the treatments we’re dealing with in both cases: nebulizer and much-hated and fought eye drops, and the fact that I kind of want to dip the entire house in disinfectant.
I think about this long winter we’ve had. Cold and snowy, we haven’t had a significant thaw since November, so the snowfalls layer on top of each other, like sediments. I imagine you could see evidence of each individual snow and ice event, if you felt like cutting through the huge snowpack. Snowplows couldn’t plow to the curb through the deep snows so there’s hardly room on the streets for cars to pass each other, and walking is full of obstacles and snow barriers should you want to get from the sidewalk to the street, to do something crazy like cross the street.
But the girls are healing, even if there’s still many days left of nebulizing masks and eye drop fights. And the days are getting longer and warmer, even if it’s likely to be another 6 weeks at least until spring comes for good. We have had above freezing temperatures 2 days in a row.
I give Zoe a kiss on her forehead, careful to avoid her goopy eyes, “yes, it’s a very good dream.” And I head back to bed imagining the scent of roses and thinking of spring.