On Friday night, I turned to Remodel Man and commented, "It hasn't even started and I feel like the weekend is over!" With a birthday celebration, a holiday family party, and a baptism, we had no weekend left. For someone who works as much as I do, two days together free of commitment makes the chance of me being committed a lot less likely. This weekend, however, was not a free one.
We got through our busy Saturday and were looking forward to welcoming a new baby into our faith community...a very special baby (and adorable to boot!) and Remodel Man's newest goddaughter. As I stood in the laundry room grabbing some clothes Sunday morning, a sleepy Builder Boy exited his room and I gasped, "Builder Boy, what's all over your shirt?!" I thought it was the chocolate ice cream he had right before we headed home from our party that he had wiped on his shirtsleeve (yep, I let him sleep in his shirt!). "Can we go in there and I'll tell you," he said shakily pointing to my bedroom. Uh-oh...
Turns out, Builder Boy had thrown up multiple times during the night and was "too sick" to call for us or come get us. Oh my!!! My first instinct was, "How sweet! What a brave boy to be so sick and not need us or get us!" My second instinct as I walked into his room was, "GAG, dear Lord, I wish he would've come get us!"
Needless to say, I spent the day taking care of a very sick little boy and doing loads and loads and loads of laundry. Remodel Man headed to the baptism and enjoyed a nice day of celebration. Me? I still smell puke even though there can't be any smell left. My hands are raw from scrubbing puke out of the linens and washing my hands in the futile hopes that I will not get whatever Builder Boy has. I am exhausted.
And yet, I felt like a woman with a purpose today. My child is sick-I must take care of him. In his sick sweetness, he would murmur, "I love you, Mama." It warmed my heart as I was walking miles and miles between the kitchen and living room with crackers and popsicles and ginger ale. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was the favorite parent. I'm the mom, that's the way it should be,right? But it's not. Builder Boy loves his Dada. They are buddies. But today, it felt different. It felt like old times when Builder Boy was all about his Mama.
Just as soon, though, as it started, Dada walked in. Things went right back to normal. Mama the servant, housekeeper, bill payer, provider, chef. Dada the fun one, the one you snuggle with, the buddy. In an instant, even though things had been cleaned up for hours, I felt elbow deep in vomit again.
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