The worst week: take 2.

Saturday 1:00pm, walking into the New England Aquarium:

Me: I can’t wait to see what the little man thinks of the fish! I think he’ll really like the big tank…
Chris: The kid just threw up on himself.
Me: What? Oh…shit.

Being eternal optimists, we carried on with the plan after changing the boy into fresh clothes and cleaning up the stroller (if only we had some Febreeze, we might have forgotten the incident ever happened).  To our dismay, the aquarium was absolutely packed, but we did manage to find a few quieter spots to let the little man gaze in wonder at the fish. IMG_2088IMG_2091IMG_2094

My heart melted. He pounded the glass (No pounding on the glass!), squealed in delight, and eagerly looked back and forth from Dad to the fish to Mom to the fish to Dad…to fish…Mom…fish…fish…TURTLE!

With each squeal, Chris and I felt more and more confident that the barf blip at the entrance was more a product of cobblestone streets and less a product of a sick baby – the relief grew as the minutes passed…until the barfing continued and anxiety, despair, and pity ensued.

Little man was sick…again (and again, and again, and again). Not as horribly as the last time, but still. It’s hard to see a baby not feel well…to feel helpless, unconfident, worried. It’s hard to be cooped up in the house all day (a SMALL house), pacing back and forth from kitchen to living room, kitchen to living room, front door to side door, front door to…shoot me.  And it’s especially hard to lay awake at night (Mom, I finally get it) worrying that the boy will be sick again, listening for wimpers and cries, counting the minutes until daybreak.

I don’t even want to talk about the reality that is work in a week like this. It’s pathetic.

But like all things, worst weeks pass. Worst weeks pass and we all return to our respective normals, as the memory of the worst week fades away into new memories of smiles, baby laughter, and love. Those memories will come.  But for now? I hope worst weeks only come in pairs and not in threes. Oh, please let them only come in pairs.


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