Poor thing, maybe I just shouldn’t write about this anymore. Maybe if I don’t write about it, it will stop. Mama had to go back to work today, and I thought all would be well…not exactly. You were throwing up all over the kitchen, then the whole car ride to Papa and Gigi’s house, then at Papa and Gigi’s house. Gigi ran out and bought you pedialite and Mama had to leave for work. You were saying “Mama stay with me,” and “Mama don’t go.” It broke my heart. But I know you’re in good hands. All we can do is hope this is the last day of this. I can’t even write about this anymore. Maybe tomorrow I’ll write about springtime and all will be over!