It’s Friday night. I walk in the door towing my suitcase with my laptop bag slung over my shoulder, and I feel so relaxed. Emma is already in bed, but Jose comes over to hug me. We talk about my trip to Huntsville, and about his days here, and eat slice-and-bake cookies that he made just before I walked in. We watch TV, he falls asleep on the couch, I sew. “This is nice,” I think.
By Saturday morning, any respite I felt during my time away in Alabama has disappeared. The grind has returned. Jose has strep throat and Emma has bronchitis, both diagnosed while I was gone. He sleeps in, while I get up and make eggs and frozen waffles for Emma. Later, Emma is wheezing, but runs around the living room like her usual self…until she stops, and scares us both by looking like she can’t catch her breath for a moment. She’s had two doses of antibiotic and is getting four bursts per day from her inhaler, but Jose says it’s not getting better. I don’t have anything to compare it to, since this is the first time I’ve seen her in four days.
He thinks we should call the pediatrician, but wants me to do it. I want him to do it, because he’s the one that’s been with her for the last 3 days and observing her symptoms. Back and forth. “I’ve been mega stressed out the whole time you were gone,” he says. “I want you to help me.”
I immediately feel annoyed but sympathetic, guilt-tripped but apologetic. Tears spring to my eyes as I call. The nurse calls back later, and tells us to give it another few days, to bring her in on Monday if she’s still not improving.
My calm, relaxed attitude — the kind that came from having to only worry about myself for three days — is gone. I miss it, but then feel guilty for missing it.
We go to Joann’s so I can buy fabric to attempt a neat scarf, then go to lunch. Emma seems to have picked up another 100 words in the short time I was gone. She talks and sings and jumps from subject to subject in whatever order they pop into her head. It’s adorable, and I give her a squeeze. As we eat our meal, Jose asks me if something is wrong. “You’re quiet,” he says.
But nothing’s really wrong. It is just jarring — to have been on my own, and then to come back to illness and dishes and laundry and errands. It was only a few days, and I didn’t expect to need time to adjust.
On Sunday, I sleep in. We go to HEB. Emma naps, I sew, Jose reads. When she wakes up, we all walk to the playground and enjoy the nice weather. My trip is a distant memory which is neither good or bad.
I’m home.
I hope everyone is feeling much better, Sarah.
They’re both on antibiotics (plus an inhaler for Emma) and on the mend. I, on the other hand, now feel achy with a hint of sore throat.
Do you have a cleaning crew? You need one. Makes at least some of that nonsense go away.
We do. They don’t do dishes (well, not on a daily basis anyway) or laundry or errands.
Yeah, with the next fortune I make I am going to hire out those chores too.. Mine does dishes so we usually let them go starting about 2 days before she comes 🙂
I thought of you, out of the blue, at daycare pick-up today and wondered how the sudden shift from work travel to home again went. I’ve only ever been on the “at home” side of that, but I know it can be frustrating all around. I don’t even know what made me think of it, except that daycare was super crazy and I was thinking about how nice work traveling sounded at that moment.
Our expectations have shifted now and we’re better at anticipating what “after the trip” will be like, but for years it was so frustrating when Greg would get home from work travel. I’d be ready for a break and he’d also be ready for a break after long days at conferences with poor sleep and travel stress and what not. Hope you all feel better soon!
Thanks Sarah!