Some of you ladies may know and share a common frustration of Mother's Day. Most of us just grit our teeth, brace ourselves, and plunge into our day with our young children. Yes, it can be joyful at times, but many days are filled with nothing more than me trying desperately to stay afloat in a sea of various messes, most of which involve some sort of bodily fluid. It's difficult to have a day which reminds us of all of the celebrated mothers who accomplished more than just barley keeping her head above water, as I do.
That being said, for Father's Day this morning, Jake woke up to a vomiting child at 4am, 5am, 6am, and 7am. And once that subsided, he was left to take care of both children and the large pile of soiled laundry from the night before, as I gradually became sick and was unable to emerge from my bed for most of the day.
It's true that I gripe about mother's day, but the poor man had to bake his own cookies this afternoon for crying out loud.
It was not an ideal day for any of us.
When I did finally have the strength to get up, this is what awaited me...
I was going to take a before and after shot, but all I could manage to accomplish was picking up the blocks. And for those of you who say, "wow Beka, you're so good, I never would have even bothered to clean up", yes you would have. I did not take a close up picture of the kitchen, but believe me, you would have at least tried.
And as for the poor dog...
That was him pretty much all afternoon.
So here's to a great husband and father who survived the Father's Day from you-know-where, and of course to better days ahead.
1 comment:
Jack threw up on Friday night at 4, 5, 6, 8 a.m. Luckily for me, I was still at girl's camp and Merril was watching the kids. Is there a stomach bug going around?
Post a Comment