How many times have I heard that? Like a billion. But I think I've only had to say it two times. The first time was over a year ago when I had a silly little cold. Psssh. Child's play. The second time I said this was this week on Wednesday. There was absolutely, positively no way in the world that I would've been able to take care of her had I not had a partner to pick up my slack. I know this to be true because I gave it an attempt....and it didn't turn out well.
I went to bed feeling fine and dandy on Tuesday night and was unpleasantly awoken around 2:00 with a raging stomach ache that would not let me rest. It all went downhill from that point on. I don't remember sleeping but I also don't remember being awake. I do remember rolling around on the couch thinking that I would rather be licking someone's dirty foot than feeling the way I felt at that moment. What followed was one long, drawn out, insanely uncomfortable 24 hour period of pure yuck. When the morning bells started ringing I laid there wondering how I could possibly take off work that day. The last thing I wanted to do was make someone else's work load heavier but I was just imagining what the end of the week would be like having to play catch up. I attempted to get up and simply wash my face but that led me straight back to the bed. About ten minutes later I decided that I'd try to get Hallie out of her crib and pour her morning cup of milk. Changing diaper= not a good idea. Opening refrigerator to get milk out= an even worse idea. Riley took Hal to daycare that morning and I settled in bed for the day after making what seemed like a million phone calls to my patients to tell them I wouldn't be coming that day. Skip to 5:00 p.m......Riley sent me a message that said "your peaceful day is about to end." Bahahahahahaha!! I would've laughed my tail off had it not been for my throbbing head and weak tummy. Peaceful day? Really? The thought of not being able to pick up Hallie from daycare, feed her dinner, bathe her and dress her had me feeling worthless and kinda frustrated. Yet another glaring reason why my mother is my hero..and not in some cliche kinda way. I have no idea how my mom got up nearly every morning of her life and took care of us girls while feeling sick. The crazy part about it is we rarely even knew that she felt bad because she didn't want us to know. I couldn't help but think about her as I hovered around while Riley fed her dinner, gave her a bath and lotioned her up and got her ready for bed. I eavesdropped as they read her bedtime books and was wishing I could go hold her and give her kisses. The remainder of the week has gone just about the same at that night. I've been busy catching up with work getting home after 7:00 and Riley's been playing the role of Mr. Mom. While I am so incredibly grateful to have a helpful partner to take my place I just don't feel right with this. A funny sidenote: my unease may be related to the dinner that her and Riley shared tonight: pizza and cookies. So nutritious. :)- I guess where I'm going with this story is here: I've discovered that every fiber of my being is a mom fiber. As often as I find myself thinking how hard it is to keep up with everything and how much I'd like a day off from mom duty.....I guess it's not all it's cracked up to be. Turns out I'm at my best when I'm being Hallie's mom....
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