Well this weekend played out like an excerpt from Things People Never Tell You About Being Parents. (Is that even a book?) We are finally recovering. And that soft silent sound of nothing I hear is like heaven. Both boys are napping and as I reflect on the Thanksgiving weekend, I am just thankful we survived.
The things we had to do this weekend, no one wants to talk about. And no one should. It was horrible. It was so bad it was almost comical. Think Bridesmaids Brazilian Steakhouse comical, oh it was bad. As we sat in the ER for three hours (we ended up there because Lincoln was sobbing in the walk-in clinic and the receptionist got scared and sent us there) waiting to be seen we overheard a nurse say "we lost the pulse and had to start CPR" we knew we really shouldn't complain because many people had it way worse than us. But it was still bad.
Our actual Thanksgiving day was decent. But we should have taken Asa rolling around in his own poop on the dining room floor in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner as a clue as to how the weekend was going to proceed. Splotches of poop all over the floor. And my son. Rolling in it. Micah and I hopped up and scrubbed him and the floor down right away. But if there was a word of the weekend it was definitely poop. I have never in my life seen so much.
I would never even say that word before I had children. But now, here I am, writing entire paragraphs about it. Wow have I ever grown as a person. Just kidding.
All I can do is smile because there's pretty much nothing left to do. We all got sick. Us and every family member we came in contact with got the stomach flu. Aunts, Uncles, Grandmas, and Grandpas (sorry Grandma Alice). Plus try recovering from the stomach flu by getting up every 45 minutes with a sick baby throughout the night and then get up at 7 with a sick 3 year old. Anyways, I'm complaining too much. I am so unbelievably thankful for my little family. And I love my boys, I really do. So I'll leave it at that.
No, there are no pictures of this weekend (you should be thankful!)
The things we had to do this weekend, no one wants to talk about. And no one should. It was horrible. It was so bad it was almost comical. Think Bridesmaids Brazilian Steakhouse comical, oh it was bad. As we sat in the ER for three hours (we ended up there because Lincoln was sobbing in the walk-in clinic and the receptionist got scared and sent us there) waiting to be seen we overheard a nurse say "we lost the pulse and had to start CPR" we knew we really shouldn't complain because many people had it way worse than us. But it was still bad.
Our actual Thanksgiving day was decent. But we should have taken Asa rolling around in his own poop on the dining room floor in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner as a clue as to how the weekend was going to proceed. Splotches of poop all over the floor. And my son. Rolling in it. Micah and I hopped up and scrubbed him and the floor down right away. But if there was a word of the weekend it was definitely poop. I have never in my life seen so much.
I would never even say that word before I had children. But now, here I am, writing entire paragraphs about it. Wow have I ever grown as a person. Just kidding.
All I can do is smile because there's pretty much nothing left to do. We all got sick. Us and every family member we came in contact with got the stomach flu. Aunts, Uncles, Grandmas, and Grandpas (sorry Grandma Alice). Plus try recovering from the stomach flu by getting up every 45 minutes with a sick baby throughout the night and then get up at 7 with a sick 3 year old. Anyways, I'm complaining too much. I am so unbelievably thankful for my little family. And I love my boys, I really do. So I'll leave it at that.
No, there are no pictures of this weekend (you should be thankful!)
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