Spring fever. Cabin fever. Whatever it was, it was time to find the cure. We decided to break the semi-permeable bubble we've been in for the last five months and head south for some fun in the sun last weekend. Matt had a conference that made a good excuse to tag along and we were able to rent a condo from a neighbor (so much cleaner than a hotel!), so we were off.
The boys adore St. George. The sun. The swimming. Hiking in the red rocks. Visiting with Grandma and Grandpa Great (that's what they call their great grandparents who live there). We did it all and brought Grandma Di along for the fun, too. It was great to see them basking in the glory of undivided attention. It honestly made me feel very aware and more than a little guilty about the hundreds of times I must say "in just a minute" everyday. Why is it such a battle to live in the present? I guess that's what vacations are made for.
Bursting the bubble came with a price, however. McKay came home with his first case of the sniffles. I didn't feel too bad about it as it seemed completely inevitable to me. After all, we do plan to join the world at some point--foreign germs and all. However, as the week progressed, so did his cold and so did his difficulty breathing. I spent last Tuesday and Wednesday nights up all night--literally-- battling boogies wielding nothing but sheer determination to open airways and a blue bulb syringe. (Cold medicine messes with blood pressure. None for us, thanks.) By Friday I was crying uncle and praying for his heavily humidified room to work a mini miracle. His blue toes and ashen color almost turned Matt's birthday bash into a trip to the emergency room. We told him he had 10 minutes to pink up or we were taking him in. He did. Good boy.
Today he seems to have turned the corner and I feel irrationally proud of his well-fought battle with the common cold. My tough guy did it, just like a regular kid. He's strong and growing and never stopped smiling.
Of course it may have all been an elaborate plot to avoid my plans to Ferberize post-vaca. Honestly, I'm at a point where I don't care if he sleeps through the night. I mostly love our all- hours cuddle sessions and have come to feel like at the rate he's growing, I'll miss something if I don't see him every few hours. What if I'm not brave enough to do this again and his little chubby cheeks are the last baby face of my own? Yes. He's going to be all kinds of spoiled. I'm not apologizing, just warning you. Watch out.
At any rate, we're back. Back to posting. Back to school. Back to waiting out RSV season and hoping Spring will come to stay for good. Back to life. And life is good.