Life with two little ones is a rollercoaster ride. Especially when the oldest decides to contract a little stomach bug.
Two scenes from our day to illustrate the point:
Scene one: Stuck at home this morning, I’m wondering and worrying about whether come tomorrow morning I’ll be canceling Will’s little Wednesday birthday party or just madly disinfecting the house, from floor to ceiling, including all the toys in between. Will, oblivious to my thoughts, gets a sudden hankering for a granola bar. Nope, not so gentle on an upset tummy, I tell now sobbing Will in a couple dozen different ways before I recognize he just needs a good ten minute cry with no adult reasoning to interfere. Meanwhile, Owen’s crying inconsolably in my arms. He’s a sensitive little guy who often seems compelled to join in when he hears big brother wailing. And me? Yep, I’m on the verge of tears too. A triple tantrum in the making.
Scene two: Just an hour later, Will is as energetic and jubilant as ever, tummy troubles forgotten for the moment. He’s wearing a backpack with a jump rope attached and speeding on his Nemo scooter around the circle that links our living room to office to kitchen to dining room to living room again. I’m soothing Owen to sleep with the steady fuzz of radio static. Will wants me to play. “Chase us!” Will (also speaking for Ally and Puff) says with a grin. So I pat Owen’s back as I trot behind his big brother. Soon Owen is sleeping peacefully on my bobbing shoulder undisturbed by Will’s happy screams. And I know: This is harmony. It may look crazy, but we’ve found our rhythm again.
Until the next bout of diarrhea that is…