It's all part of the plan, more or less. Right?
Like the wise, Agent Oso says anyway...
This morning, I'm coming to you from my kitchen. No 12 hour roadtrip to North Carolina. No one-million stops and snacks and movies and roadtrip toys and yelling at each other and roadside time-outs and carspotting and pecan tasting and picture taking.
But worst of all, no sister. Which is why we were going. And I miss her so much it hurts.
Sigh.
I knew it was all over when my two-year-old laid his head down on the table at Cracker Barrel yesterday just before we left to come home from our weekend in South Florida. For some strange reason, I brought my thermometer (scoring good mommy points here) and it read 101.6. Oh, bugger.
I guess I held out hope that today would be a different story and we'd still be able to go, but he spent the ride home with a fever, all night with a fever, and this morning there was barf. I'm not sure what the rest of the week holds yet, but right now there is a giant fort in my living room, two children and a mommy in pajamas and Monsters, Inc on tv and I've been busting out the toys that I had gotten them for the long road trip.
It's so hard for me to throw in the towel and slow down the speed once I've mentally prepped myself for three back-to-back trips and all of packing and running around with the kids that three weeks of trips entails. When we got home last night, I was flitting around the house packing for the next two weeks because we were supposed to leave this morning, go to NC then come back and go to the beach for a week. I was going to get the oil changed this morning, get in a run and load everyone up and head out. I was going to bring my bike and get my training in North Carolina. I was going to run, I was bringing my GPS watch. I have a sprint triathlon at the tail end of the beach week and I was packing for that too.
Going going going.
But then in the middle of it all, with the suitcases spread open everywhere and clean laundry everywhere and the lights all on, we decided to stay home.
And I sat down with my arms crossed on the couch like I was 4 years old and I threw myself a mini pity party. And then I had a beer. And then I had two more and we watched Tosh.O and we laughed at the cartwheeling goalie and I felt better.
It took me a good hour to change modes and resolve myself to the fact that we were going nowhere this week. It still doesn't feel quite right. This sucks.
But the little boy is happily playing at the table with his Buzz and Woody and he has no fever and he looks so stinkin cute.
Oh well.
It's all part of the plan, more or less.
Monday
Quoting the wise Agent Oso
blog comments powered by Disqus
