Home for the Holiday

I was home for Easter.

I wasn’t supposed to be. I was supposed to be at my parents’ house twenty-five minutes away gathered together with my kids, both of their sets of grandparents, and various aunts, uncles cousins and a lot of dogs.

Instead, one look at Austin and I uttered the involuntary, “Oh no.”

Within the hour, I was wearing the paltry amount of food he’d eaten at breakfast, which seemed to somehow expand and multiply exponentially upon its return visit.

Let’s face it – It’s a bummer. My daughter was dolled up and all smiles. Family was gathered from out of state. And both kids are now old enough to enjoy running around looking for eggs filled with sugar.

In the scheme of things, it was fine.

My husband was able to gather up Abby and take her to church, to visit with the relatives, hunt for eggs and brunch away.

Austin? He experienced an extremely rare occurrence: he had me alone in the house with him for a full morning. He was able to snuggle and rest and have my undivided attention.

I gave it to him. I didn’t try to get anything done. I just spent time with him.

He is getting big so quickly. As he grows, there will be plenty of problems I can’t fix for him. I certainly couldn’t heal him yesterday. But that time we had together, sick or not, is a treasure.


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    Alone time with either child is to be cherished, seriously. I'm sure the snuggle time was beneficial to both of you, though bummer it had to be a holiday.

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