No mom, this is not my brother’s coveted train blanket I have somehow scooted myself onto –
why do you ask?
I am known among my family as the one with a sensitive stomach. I gag when I open bottles that have been left on the counter a day too long and I trash (gasp!) reusable containers that have been sitting in my car for a week. I am totally THAT person.
You can imagine, then, that when Joey was hit with an awful stomach bug last fall, it was tough for me. I mean, it was tougher for him, but I struggled too. I called my mom in delight the when he puked on me (several times) and I didn’t puke on him back. I was that impressed with my mommyness. I still kind of am.
So you know what’s worse than one pukey kid? Two pukey kids. Ugh.
I have no idea where they got this bug and therefore have nowhere to direct my rage (which is obviously the mature way to handle such issues). Instead, I have been bombarding Twitter and my Instagram feed with hourly updates to what I am lovingly referring to at home as “the situation”.
The husband is staying home this morning so I can run in to work to get a few things done and then I’ll be back home with my sickies. I intend to spend the afternoon washing our linens in the hottest of hot water. I never use bleach on our clothes, but I think it may be called for in this situation – we cannot risk reinfection. There’s already been more than enough gross around here.
One year ago today I was in the midst of a funk unlike any I had ever known. In January, my dad’s youngest brother passed away at 51 after having been diagnosed with cancer only weeks before. In April, my mom’s only brother passed away from a heart attack at 54. On top of that, we lost several people at work who I had known since my early days as a student assistant. 2010 and I had gotten off on completely the wrong foot. And then, it was May 9 – Mother’s Day.
I snuck an HPT into the bathroom with me while I got ready for our breakfast date with my Mom and Gram. When I jumped out of the shower to check the result, it was positive. Not just a little positive, but a definite second line indicating that we would be expecting our second child in approximately 36 weeks. I had no idea what to say. Honestly, I was terrified. I was afraid to be hopeful after the way that year had started off. But somewhere deep inside, I was hopeful.
Over the next 9 months, I spent a lot of time worrying about what life would bring come January 2011. I wondered how Joey would react to our new addtion. I didn’t know how I, the girl who was never going to have kids, would learn to juggle a second child. I thought a lot about those early, screamy days with Joey and how one was supposed to balance that with a toddler. I never doubted that we’d figure it out eventually, but I expected it to be the hardest thing we’ve ever had to do.
And then there was Luke who fills the hole in our family that we never knew was there. He’s the easy baby we never thought we’d have. He brings us joy and laughter every single day and we’re so, so thankful to have him in our lives.
This baby is 4 months old today. How that happened, I have no idea. I kind of wish he’d slow down a bit.