Coffeehouse Date

Preston has made an almost full recovery. Green goopy diapers are still going on and diaper changes have turned into something of a traumatizing experience. That diaper rash of his is fighting to stay on his bum with a vengeance. Otherwise he is on the upswing. We are relieved and trying to slip back into our old routine.

I wrote the post below before he was sick. The Hubs and I went on a date. I was just sitting and reflecting on motherhood and the state of my life. I thought I might want to read back on it, so here it is. 

This cup of coffee happened. As our grandma took over Preston watching duties, We (Hubs and I) went to a nearby cafe, sat down with a cup of coffee and ate delicious Italian pastry, lingering on every bite (because who knows the next time we can do this again?!)  He studied a little, then took a nap on my lap as I was typing away my inner monologue that has produced this entry. Let me tell you, it felt glorious.  We are currently in the throes of Preston's worst night wakings where he has been waking every 2-3 hours. One night of poor sleep can be recovered by an extra dose of caffeine. Multiple nights of interrupted sleep? That wreaks havoc on your entire day, physically and emotionally, and I know it sounds crazy, but this day has been a long time in the dreaming.

Which brings me to this thought:  Being with a baby every minute of every day is beautiful but also complicated. You want to be present  in every moment you spend with your child , but you also desperately feel the need to weave in "me time" and step away from diaper changes and mealtime disaster cleanups to refuel. By "refuel" I mean have those quiet, reflective periods where you can actually hear your own thoughts.

And these periods are essential to me. These are the times I remind myself that dedicating all my energy to my child, my husband, and my home is not only doing good but doing work that's essential. My role as mother and wife does have an impact. I enable my husband to do his work well.  I'm responsible for someone's whole childhood. I know it is a gift to be present in their lives every day, and when I reach an old, ripened age, I know that  it will be the memories of those tender moments with my family that will be a barometer of a life well lived.

It's these thoughts that help dissipate my emotional heap of wariness, worry, and exhaustion and empowers me to carry forth in the midst of days that are mayhem.

Our Poor Sick Baby

Life could use a little extra cheer right anow. Our last few days has totally sucked. We've had a stomach flu epidemic in our household (that I've been doing my best to not catch on to).

It all started one day when Danny was working in the pediatrics department. He came home with fever, chills, other miserable symptoms (kids are so potent)!  He skipped dinner and went straight to bed that night and the next morning he was a new man. He's had to fight some of the lingering remnants of the virus and has still been checking into the toilet every other hour, but the worst of it was over in a day.

For Preston, things were a little... or a lot more intense. He caught on to the virus the same day as his daddy but has been in the throes of non-stop green goopy diapers and projectile vomiting since the beginning of the week. Our poor little man got so worn out and weak that he completely lost his appetite and stopped nursing. This is when we had to take him to the hospital, because we were getting nervous that he might be too dehydrated. Of course, we knew what was going on, but the doctors (to be sure) had to run a few blood tests and put an IV in him. I had to sit and watch, sometimes be the one to hold him down, as he was poked and prodded all night long. It was a mama's worst nightmare.



We're back at home now and on the mend. We're seeing glimpses of his spirited self, but there are times during the day when Preston gets really quiet and somber and just lays his head against my chest. If you know our son, you know this is exactly the opposite of his default self, so it's heartbreaking to see.

I've been on an emotional rollercoaster. Thankfully, my husband and in-laws have been around helping me to stay calm and grounded. I am so grateful not only for distractions but for extra hands. When you and your child are covered in a divine smell like vomit, an extra pair of hands is a God send. So thankful, and also so ready to reclaim my mischievous son back. Any day now. Please?