Its 10:30pm and the infant fidgets and wiggles with tummy pains that he doesn’t know quite yet are hunger. I pulled him onto my chest in my empty king bed with my eyes closed and still in half a snooze. Just part of my night. Once he finished eating, I put him back in his bassinet and he fell back to sleep pretty quickly as did I. But by 11pm, my 2 year old started screaming “MOMMA” and it was not like her. I thought she must have had a terrible dream or something wrong was happening. I walked into her room to find puke all over her crib and her face- but to her… this is a new experience. She was traumatized. I kept having to reassure her that it’s okay and that “Momma fix it”.

We put on her Bob Marley CD (a nightly ritual) and cuddled back to sleep. I put her back in her bed and quickly went to bed myself because I knew that the OTHER child was going to be up in a couple hours. I needed to get a few more winks of sleep to be somewhat sane the next morning. To my horror, Bethany woke up 20 minutes later “MOMMA- OH NO”! And I just flexed the momma muscles and realized that I was in for a long haul of a night. A wild night. Without the hangover.

We played musical beds in the dark after that. Andy and I have decided not to let the kids sleep in our bed if we can help it, but this night I made the exception since she was so sick and I really wanted to keep an eye on her. She was grinning from ear to ear that she got to sleep in the same room as Momma and Caleb. Lucky girl. She fell asleep, but I had a feeling this wasn’t over and she was quite restless. Since 2 year olds don’t really understand sickness or what’s going on, she just looked up at me and said “Momma??” followed by a burp, and a puke across the sheets.  My poor Dot! (Her nickname from birth)

Okay- on we go to the couch. I’m running out of sheets here.

By this time it was 2:30 am and I just thought that the night is a write off, so I just accepted the fact that we are on the couch for the night, bucket beside the bed and Dory is on the tele. To all of you, you are probably thinking-It’s JUST the flu. But to me, my baby girl was sick. She was scared. She needed me more than ever because she had no idea why she was feeling so icky. That’s what was breaking my heart. The fact that she didn’t understand why her body felt the way it did and why I couldn’t help her.

My anxieties run very deep with a situation like this when Andy is away at work. Especially during the lonely nights. It really weighs heavy on a parent when the responsibility is solely on them. This daunting, rewarding task really took me for a spin! As poor Dot was so sick, I still had an infant to feed, change, cuddle and rock to sleep.

My love for my kids grew exponentially last weekend during this time. I have never seen Bethany so sick, hallucinating and fevered. To all the parents with children that have had a cough, flu, fever, cancer or have had broken limbs- The love of a parent cannot be explained. The feeling of wanting to take it from them so you can take their pain instead is surreal. The indescribable pain you feel when you see your child in their state or situation, confused why they feel this way. Just yesterday, or last week- they were eating hot dogs and running around the playground getting sweaty. It’s given me such perspective towards parents with sick children in BC Children’s Hospital or single parents that work 365/24/7.

The house is disinfected now and we’ve moved on with the help of family. But some parents don’t have family around. We’ve created a villageless society when we actually need it more than ever. I follow a couple of parenting blogs and this topic came up on a particular blog. During the season of raising young offspring and when time is valued more than ever… we are now expected to create our own village or go out and find it. It’s totally great inviting a new mom for coffee. But do you know what would help even more? Showing up at her doorstep with a coffee in hand, a mop/bucket and a willing heart to clean her bathroom. I have the amazing support of family and friends around me, so this blog is just reminding myself how to care for a sister friend whose world is hidden under the copious amounts of sheets, soap scum stained bath tubs and graham crackers. You know what else she probably deeply desires? A tuna stack from Cactus Club with an udder ale to sip in peace. Wearing her new wedges and absent from her huge ass diaper bag, belly laughing until it hurts, with friends with deep roots. Just to remember who she was and still is.

My brother in law still calls me by my maiden name and I absolutely love it! It sends me a flash back of the scrony, wild girl who skipped math class to swim at the lake only to have the daily news snap a photo of me and press it on the front page. I did get an in-school suspension the next day with a principal who laughed WITH me and who had an understanding nature to him that teenagers desire freedom.

If you have some new mom friends, just call em by their maiden name, order a tuna stack to go and stop by for some belly laughs.