So Adam, Lamb, and I are headed to Belize Wednesday morning for a family wedding. You know, remote island Belize.
On Saturday morning, Lamb wakes up with a cough. She sleeps horribly Saturday night. Then last night, she sleeps even more horribly (up consistently until 1am. I gave her benadryl at midnight to see if that would help her sleep). AND, she starts running fever last night too.
WE ARE HEADING OUT OF THE COUNTRY IN 2 DAYS.
Cue complete and total meltdown freakout inside my head right now. I mean, I was already stressing enough about packing. Now I’ve got a sick kid. Traveling with a sick kid?!
So, I’ve scheduled a doctor’s appointment for this afternoon to rule out the flu. Also perhaps to get antibiotics in case her ears get worse (I’ve heard flights with ear infections are horrific).
Sometimes, as a mom, I want to murder my spouse. I just, I am so sick of parenting being the whole “mom responsibility thing.” Like, Adam wonders why I run around like a headless chicken sometimes but that’s because I AM RESPONSIBLE FOR REMEMBERING EVERYTHING. Case in point:
I was up with Lamb until 1am (I probably only got 4 hours of solid sleep last night).
I am getting ready to wake Adam up so I can leave for work when Lamb then wakes up and vomits in her crib from coughing. So, I have to get her out of vomit soaked outfit. She had BOTH her lovies in her crib. One was vomit covered, the other had some vomit on it but not a lot. I knew she’d freak if I washed them both at the same time, so I throw her sleep sack, crib sheet, and vomit covered lovie in the washer on speed wash.
I go wake up Adam. I tell him Lamb was up all last night, she’s sick. She can’t go to school today. I’ve got a couple apointments at work that I cannot miss this morning. I will come home right after. I tell him lovie is in the wash, and the other one she has still has some vomit on it.
I leave for work. I call my mother. My mother graciously agrees to keep Lamb today. I call Adam, say, please take her to my mom’s.
1 hour later, text message from my mother: “What size shoe does Lamb wear?”
Me: “oh JESUS, did Adam forget to bring shoes?!”
Me: “and did he bring the clean lovie or the one with a little vomit on it?”
Mom: “little vomit”
Me: “!@(&!*!!*@()$*$))%R” really the guy couldn’t remember SHOES or put the laundry in the dryer on speed dry?! Seriously?! And I have to pick her up from my mom’s and take her to the doctor this afternoon.
HOW CAN THEY NOT REMEMBER A GOD DAMN THING.
So, yeah. I’m not happy. I’m tired. I’m worried.