Goodbye snowflakes. Hello flowers!
There is nothing like a 24-hour stomach bug to make you appreciate your good health. Alice and I went out for a walk with a friend on Tuesday afternoon and, by the time we got home, I knew something just wasn't right. Alice went down for her nap and I took one, too, thinking I'd wake up feeling better. Nope. I woke up feeling worse. My husband came home early to take over parenting duties while I moaned and groaned and tossed and turned in bed, waiting for the inevitable up-chuck to happen. And happen it did.
After getting the food-poisoning culprit all out of me, I felt much better but, by the next morning, I felt achy and tired from being up most of the night. Lee asked if he should stay home to watch Alice but of course I told him no as a day off in the middle of the week makes for bringing work home on the weekend. And Alice and I made it through our day despite my low energy and still-queasy stomach (and although I wish it were, this queasiness is not code for something else!).
While I put on a good face and tried to be cheerful for Alice I thought about how I sometimes feel uncomfortable asking for help. Over the last few months, I've become closer to some moms who would've readily taken Alice for a few hours while I recuperated had I just asked them (and because we have no family here, those mommy friends are our only option). But I felt like I'd be putting them out even though I know they wouldn't have seen it that way. Maybe it's that pervasive super mom phenomenon in our society or me being a stubborn oldest child that makes it hard to ask for help but what I have definitely learned over the last year about raising a child is that it takes a village. But, of course, you have to be willing to let that village in to give you help.
And that's something I am definitely still working on.
Catalog Flowers! Bringing spring inside.