"How was your Easter weekend? Good?" an unsuspecting colleague asked me today.
"No. It was miserable," I replied.
And then I proceeded to tell her how Olive started out with the stomach flu, throwing up all Thursday night into Friday; by Friday afternoon Nick was violently ill long into the night; we woke Saturday morning to a puke-covered boy; and by Saturday evening I, too, spent hours on the bathroom floor praying to the porcelain god.
(Sorry if I caught you on a lunch break.)
Miserable indeed.
On Saturday night, sometime after 2:00 am, I sat in the recliner, unable to lie down, unable to stand up, my stomach churning, my head pounding, and Olive, who for the last month or so has actually been sleeping better at night, six-hour stretches instead of one or two, decided to revert back to her old restless self, screaming every few hours as if she saw a body rise from the dead.
And not mine.
After multiple attempts by Nick to settle her, I resurrected myself from that brown leather recliner I insisted we buy back when Olive was a three-month old baby who cried for five-hour stretches, almost breaking me with her screams.
I walked to her crib, picked her up and held her in Elias's old blue rocking chair, where despite feeling like an empty shell, a miracle occurred: milk.
Olive drank from my emptiness as Nick leaned his tired head against the door frame. When I felt her settle, Nick lifted her back into the crib where we both covered her small body in blankets before turning away.
As we walked back through the kitchen, I felt the next putrid wave rise.
And so it goes...
As parents, our all-consuming illogical unconditional love for our children, at times, can be our very own cross to bear.
"Not quite the Easter weekend we had in mind," I told my co-worker. "But at least Nick and I weren't sick at the same time so we could still take care of the kids."
"Well that's seeing the silver lining."
"It could have been worse," I smiled.
It can always be worse.
Oh dear. I hope everyone is better now? Sorry it was so rough.
Posted by: niksmom | 04/26/2011 at 05:07 AM
one way of keeping everyone from eating too much chocolate! If it makes you feel any better, it rained hard all day here like it has for the past 21 out of 26 days. drought last summer and now so much rain that it is just running off into the ohio river. our daffodils drowned. ho-hum.
Posted by: fleming | 04/26/2011 at 09:29 AM
aw, man. when the easter bunny brings stuff like that in his basket, you just gotta send him back! If you were at school, you must be improved, I hope. Big hug and lots of saltines and gingerale...
Posted by: Ginna | 04/26/2011 at 02:06 PM
Hug x 2.
Posted by: Kate Kripke | 04/26/2011 at 02:49 PM
Oh... sorry to hear that! Feeling better afterwards is almost a new beginning :-)
I hope that bug doesn't come back for many years!
Posted by: Ellie | 04/26/2011 at 06:21 PM
If people knew the intimate details of bringing up children, then procreation would cease. That's why God made baby-making so fun.
Posted by: Greta | 04/26/2011 at 08:38 PM
Well said Greta, thanks for the smile.
Still not fully healthy but a hell of a lot better than I was this weekend. Still run down and coughing but no longer hugging the toilet.
Flem, I'm wishing you some dry skies and sunshine my friend!
Posted by: Christy | 04/27/2011 at 10:28 PM