New Year's Eve, Toddler Style

I wrote earlier this week that Zoe's been sick for a while. Sleep has been very hard to come by for all of us due to her amazingly persistent cough, and we've spent much more time in the house in the past week than we've done since the first month of her life.

All that is fine, and it happens sometimes, and this bout just happened to happen during the lead-up to New Year's Eve.

I can remember, back in the day, how important it was to me to be at the right place at the right time with the right boy to kiss on New Year's Eve. In high school, I mostly tagged along with my brother Daniel, although there was one time I was out with my friends, and Daniel and I wound up at the same party anyway. Then in college, there were always parties to attend - I will (proudly? shamefully?) admit that on New Year's Day, 2000, I awoke laying next to a girlfriend of mine on a floor, covered in glitter and champagne. These things happen, too.

Yet still, I love New Year's Eve, and while I now prefer waking up hangover-free the following morning, I still love being up to watch the ball drop in Times Square, drinking some wine and hanging out with Charles.

This year, though, sleep was virtually non-existent on the night of the 30th, I was done by about 8:00 on the 31st. I went up to bed, leaving Charles dozing on the couch while he watched some football. As I drifted off to sleep around 9, I hoped against hope that Zoe's cough would leave us alone for the night.

It was not meant to be. She started coughing for the first time around 10, waking me up with that surge of adrenaline that only comes when you are worried about your child. She was fine in a few minutes, but of course that adrenaline takes a while to wear off, so I was up for a good bit.

She had another coughing fit around 11, and again, it ended quickly, and I dozed in bed, waiting for the next one.

It came at midnight, on the nose. By then, Charles was up in bed, too, so we both sat up sleepily and listened for a minute.

This one was bad. Zoe coughed and gasped in a way familiar to any asthmatic, and I went in to try to soothe her. She was flushed and sweaty but still, somehow, sleeping, simultaneously disturbed and incredibly peaceful. My first kiss of 2011 was the damp forehead of this tiny little girl who wanted only to get some rest.

She stopped for a moment, and since it was midnight and I was wide awake, I headed down to try to catch the tail end of the New York festivities on TV. I managed to catch a glimpse of Dick Clark before Zoe started coughing again.

And again it was bad, so this time, even though I knew she wanted to sleep, I woke her up and carried her down for a breathing treatment, and for once, she didn't fight me. I turned off Dick Clark and turned on Special Agent Oso and got the treatment ready.

Within a few minutes, she was settled on my lap on the couch with her mask on, watching her favorite show, and Charles sat beside me, keeping us company.

We rang in the new year as a family after all.