Grounded

So...here I am. At home.

Why, you ask? Well...

Last night, the girls and I arrived home to find Tom on the couch, writhing in pain. His stomach hurt and he was miserable.

I took one look at him and said, "I'm not going tomorrow."

He moaned, "Yes you are, I'll be fine."

About a half hour later, I saw Alyssa taping a sign to the downstairs bathroom door. It read: Beware! Stink Hazard. Use upstairs bathrooms if you have to go.

Heeee, I love that girl so much.

Anyway, the girls and I went about our evening routine. I packed in case he was better this morning, just in case I would actually be able to go on my trip. I didn't want to wake up this morning to find that he was fine and I had nothing done in preparation for leaving.

So I prepared.

And this morning, I got up, got the girls off to school, continued about my preprations. I unloaded the dishwasher, I did a few loads of laundry, I showered, I dumped and rinsed out Tom's puke bucket (I probably should have done those last two steps in reverse order, ewww,) I finished packing, I put air in my car's tires. At 8:45am I woke Tom and asked him how he was feeling.

He said he felt better. He got up and checked the coolant in my car. He said that he thought that after a few hours of sleep, he'd feel better still.

I was ambivilant. I reminded him that my mom is going out of town this weekend and I went on this trip, there wouldn't be anyone nearby if he relapsed.

He assured me that he felt so much better as compared to last night that if he continued to feel better at the same rate, by the time the girls got home he'd be fine to care for them.

I headed to Toledo. But before I left, I told him that my plane left at 12:05. I also told him that I would be boarding the plane at 11:35. I said that if he started to feel worse, he should call me and I'd come home.

And off I went. I got there by 10:00. I breezed through security. I didn't check my bag even though I thought I might have to at the gate. It was squishy and would probably have fit beneath the seat.

I sat down, called my mom and let her know that Tom would be there to pick up the girls at 5:00 and that he'd been sick the night before but he assured me he was on the mend this morning.

I started reading one of the books I'd taken with me. At 10:35, my phone rang. It was Tom.

He apologized for calling but wanted me to know that he was feeling awful again. He was chilled.

I didn't wait for him to suggest it. I said, "I'm coming home."

He apologized again and I told him it was okay. I wanted to come home. I didn't want to leave him with the girls when he was out of commission. It wasn't fair to any of us. The girls deserve to becared for by a healthy parent, he deserves to rest and I knew I wouldn't be able to have fun if I knew he was sick and they all three needed me.

So I left the airport and came home.

And now it feels like I have a bonus weekend with the girls. I know, I spend every weekend with them. But I wasn't supposed to be here this weekend and so it feels special, spontaneous even.

The laundry is already almost all done, the dishwasher has been run and unloaded. I hope we can pack as much fun into this bonus weekend as possible.

It's what I was going to do in DC with all my lovely MOD friends. Since I can't be with them, I'll make the best of this bonus time with my girls. They deserve it. I deserve it.

Here's to bonus weekends.