Someday

I believe that someday the phrase “Mom, my stomach feels weird” will no longer fill me with instant anxiety.

Today is not that day.

My son isn’t feeling well. He missed school yesterday and today. The husband and I are both hoping he can go to school tomorrow so we can avoid the “who has to stay home and miss work” conversation. I was feeling pretty good about our chances — the kid has no fever and his strep test was negative– and then he barfed a little bit tonight. I feel like an asshole, but my first thought upon hearing from my husband that Miles threw up was something along the lines of “damn it” and not “oh, my poor sweetie”.

In the last week, we’ve had to take Ev to the ER and dealt with some midnight barf attacks for her. I threw out my back picking up a Cheerio this weekend (this is the most frumpy mom injury I can imagine) and missed work yesterday. Miles has… whatever he has. Only my husband has been free of illness/injury this past week but he’s pretty obviously exhausted from dealing with all of us.

I have a good life. I know I do. It just feels like a slog right now.

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