Last weekend was supposed to be a nice long weekend. My wife is a nanny and the family she nanny’s for, who happen to be friends of ours, were taking a trip out of the province from Thursday through Monday. That meant a five day weekend for us and hopefully the ability to get caught up on all the stuff that piles up in life.
The last few months we’ve gone from one event to another with seemingly no ability to play catch up. Karly hurt her back, then Sam turned one and we had a bunch of family in town, then we started sleep training, then Sam got sick, then Karly and I got sick, then we got back into sleep training. This weekend was finally going to give us the time to do all the laundry, get household chores done, organize clothes bins as we’ve switched out winter clothes for summer ones and, honestly, just find some time to relax as a family. Sunday was both Karly’s birthday and Mother’s Day, which just adds to the excitement of the weekend.
But as luck would have it both Sam and Karly got sick (again) with the stomach flu (again). While the first time a few weeks ago seemed to be the 12-hour variety, this one was the five-day type. And suddenly our long weekend, the weekend to finally catch up on life and relax turned into the kind of weekend where Sam is constantly fussy and Karly can’t get up off the couch without feeling overwhelmingly fatigued. What was supposed to be tears of laughter became tears of frustration.
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