|Posted on October 14, 2010 at 3:11 AM|
Well, another October 11th come and gone. Last year, I spent our anniversary in the hospital giving birth. At the time, people teased us by saying, "Happy Anniversary, you won't get to spend the day romantically together for another 18 years!" We thought we had at least one more year, I mean him being so young and all (he doesn't know it's his birthday, we could tell him it's man on the moon day, he probably hears the same thing Charlie Brown does when adults speak.. wah-wah-wah-waah-wa-wah), what does he care if we go out?
So Shad took the day off, I was home as well, and we decided to do a nice lunch together somewhere, just the two of us. You know, drop the kids of at Grandma's for the day, get some things done around the house, maybe take a walk together, get lunch somewhere where it's not okay to have kids throw their mac 'n' cheese on the floor, etc. And everything was going according to plan that morning. Shad had Drake up, was getting him fed, getting him ready for preschool, he came upstairs to wake me up, and heard Liam vomitting in his crib.
Yup. Liam at one year of age has never had more than a slight cold. The kid just doesn't get sick, he barely made a fuss when teething. He's the healthiest kid you ever saw. We decide to spend a day together (it's been a long, long, time since we've done that) he starts vomiting his brains out. (Thinking of my parents being affectionate towards each other kind of makes me a little sick to my stomach... but I wouldn't actually vomit.)
So after dropping Drake off, I cleaned up Liam, who had gone through another change of clothes after another round of vomitting, and wound up sitting in the doctors office, with a miserable one-year-old, who couldn't hold down water and was still dry-heaving. Shad had stayed home in order to do a laundry load of all the puked on bedding and clothes. And in all the hustle and all the worry over my poor baby, I hadn't even wished the old guy a happy anniversary.
I called him. He was cleaning, of course. He asked what the doctor had said. The doctor said it was nothing. Said that if he still couldn't keep water down after another four hours to take him to the ER. Thanks... twenty dollars well spent, jackass. You could at least prod his belly or do something doctorish.
I told Shad I called to wish him a happy anniversary. He thought that was pretty funny. But it was a...well, not a 'happy' anniversary per se, but a good one. We've both got someone we can depend on. It feels like we have to deal with a lot sometimes, but it's never alone. No matter if it's a sick kid, or renters who won't pay, or just someone to tell you once in awhile that they love you, no matter how much you pass gas or snore in your sleep.
Liam was holding down water by late afternoon, and a little bit of bread shortly thereafter. Right in time for Shad and I to go take a tour of another house, and play good cop bad cop with the poor relator ("Okay this is how we'll play this... you be the one who's really interested in the house, and I'll be the one who thinks it's crap.). It's nice to have a partner in crime, and I wouldn't change him (well... maybe he could agree to take Beano before bed, but other than that..).