This past weekend D.Jones and I decided to head to visit his Dad in southeastern Wisconsin. Pre-Cooper, the trip could take us 5 hours or so, with me driving, but post-Cooper, with bathroom stops and snack stops and whatever else comes up, it usually takes us closer to 6 1/2.
We left Friday morning (more like noon) after my scheduled doctor appointment. We made it to our destination with no problem, and not long after we arrived, ordered Papa’s favorite pizza to be delivered. It ended up being a nice, relaxing night in.
On Saturday, Doug’s Dad and I ran a few errands in preparation for some more family joining us that evening, and Doug stayed home trying to coax Cooper in to taking a nap. In the afternoon, some additional family members began their arrivals. Doug’s brother Tom and his wife Michelle, their kids Casey and Suzette, Doug’s sister Diane in town from Alabama, and her daughter Jessica, who was 1 day past her due date at the time, along with her fiance. A little later in the evening, Doug’s niece Kristine and her husband Dicky arrived with their son Collin, which was a fantastic surprise as we hadn’t expected to have enough time on our quick trip to see them!
We spent a lovely evening of conversation, good food, and a heated game of cards. Cooper was absolutely exhausted by the time I took him up to bed, but insisted I stay with him until he fell asleep. Apparently he wasn’t the only exhausted one, as I crashed out myself, only to wake up an hour later wondering where the heck I was…
Sunday morning we planned to go out for breakfast with Tom and Michelle, hang around for a little while and head home in the afternoon. Unfortunately, as Cooper was eating his morning cereal, he declared that he didn’t feel good and didn’t want to eat. Very odd for our child. We literally watched him get paler and paler by the moment. Soon, he was in a limp ball on my lap and I moved to a rocking chair in the living room, where I rocked him as he was essentially unable to even keep his eyes open. I began to get worried. I told Doug that we should go and he quickly packed the car for our hasty retreat for home.
Doug sat in the backseat with Cooper, and we were both getting very stressed out as we made our way down the freeway and the boy, covered in a blanket and curled in a ball in his carseat, shivered so violently that it was visible. He was white as chalk, and couldn’t keep his eyes open, much less keep his head up. He drifted in and out of sleep, muttering incoherant things in his fitful sleep.
In my head, I was deciding which urgent care we’d end up at once we arrived back in Minneapolis and familiar territory. My adrenaline had definitely kicked in and I drove faster and faster, praying I wouldn’t get pulled over.
We were about an hour and a half in to our trip, when Cooper woke up a bit and I asked him if he thought he might want some juice or something to eat. I told myself that if he at least had a bit of an appetite, I’d feel better. He didn’t seem interested, but drank about half of a juice box. When I told him he could go in to a gas station and pick out any thing he wanted, he agreed, though he had absolutely no energy and seemed like he was just going through the motions. Doug took him in to the store and he picked out some Chex mix, and some water.
We pulled out and across the street where Doug and I were going to get McDonald’s and as we were in the midst of the sort of long drive-thru lane, Cooper got sick. Violently sick. Like 4 times in a row. Poor D.Jones was the recipient of much of it, on his lap, and with no other pair of jeans to change in to, that was an ugly thing.
Doug was saying “cancel the order, get out of the line!” from the backseat, but I felt compelled to get our stuff that we’d already ordered, which we promptly through in the garbage. We drove back across the street to the gas station we’d just left, and began a lengthy clean up process. To our surprise and amazement, as we began cleaning, Cooper was literally jogging laps around the car. His color was back, his energy was back, and he was seriously back to 100% within moments. It was the craziest thing I’ve ever seen!
After much use of Lysol, Febreeze, and half a roll of paper towel, plus many trips to the gas station bathroom, we were back on our way. D.Jones and I were marvelling at our child’s recuperation, which included him begging for food, and instead being given a cup of ice chunks.
He did end up eating cheese and crackers on the way home, though, and dinner when we got back home, too…and was just fine. So bizarre, but like I told Doug, I’ll take it. I was terrified for my boy for the majority of the morning.
Last night, as D.Jones and I sat in the living room after putting the boy to bed, I said “thanks for being the man of the house and taking care of most of the mess…I was having a hard time. I could never be a single parent because without you, I have no idea what I’d do.” Doug laughed and then said “Well, good…I guess…though I’m a little concerned that you were actually thinking about it.”
I went to bed reminding myself that I need to be thankful of the little things because boy was the morning scary. My reminder lasted until…oh…I woke up. This morning I woke up to find that the Yorkie had pooped in the office, my child woke up at 6:30 in the a.m. wanting me to play trucks with him, and when I staggered to the kitchen for coffee, found that my sister who had been dog sitting for us had retuned a completely empty bottle of coffee creamer to my fridge, which left me sans caffeine. Well, I intended to be thankful, anyway. Perhaps I’ll try again later today.