Reflux Chronicle: Hot Chocolate

This is the post I never ever thought I'd be able to write. It's bringing tears to my eyes as I type.

Today, Charlotte and I rode our bike to the playground (I pedalled, she tickled my tush). As we began our ride home the sun was setting, the temperature was dropping, and the wind picked up. It must've dropped 10 degrees in 10 minutes. Charlotte didn't notice until the last 5 minutes. Mommy Reynaud's, however, was literally going numb. I took me several minutes to undo the velcro straps on Charlotte's feet when we got home because my fingers weren't working.

So, I put on the kettle and set about making hot chocolate. Charlotte squealed with delight, "Harlotte have some!!" Not a request, not a command, simply a gleeful shout.

I poured an ounce of hot chocolate into a cup, swirled an ice cube in it, and handed it to Charlotte. She sucked it down faster than you can say "Skippy Jon Jones, Skippy Jon Jones, Skippy Jon Jones," handed the cup to me, and declared, "'Harlotte all done."

It wasn't mealtime. She wasn't in her chair. I didn't ask her to eat.

She just jumped at the chance. I'm so proud that it was for hot chocolate!!