My life is easy.

Asher was up almost 24 hours yesterday, beleaguered by a common nuisance that had gotten out of control. He was so uncomfortable that he just couldn't sleep. And everything gets worse when you're tired, so the longer he stayed awake, the more uncomfortable and irrational he was, and the less likely he was to doze off. And of course, if Asher was up almost 24 hours, so were Brian and I. None of us enjoyed yesterday, to be sure.

Around midnight I thought, I don't know how people do it, who have children who are seriously ill. I don't know how anyone handles watching their child suffer. Of course they do it the way anyone does anything - by getting through the moment, holding on to whatever hope they can. I actually thought of women in Africa, watching their children die from common, preventable illnesses, and unable to save them or make them comfortable. Man, my life is easy. My children are healthy, my husband likes me, and there is food on the table. This morning I have been reminded, again, of how privileged I am.