Tuesday night was a bit of a mess.
Tay caught a stomach bug on Monday and couldn’t hold anything down all day. Monday night and all day Tuesday he seemed to be better but then around midnight he woke up crying, which is not normal at all, so I went up to check on him and when I was putting his pacifier back in his mouth he started gagging and out came a tummyful of used fruit and biscuit puree.
I cleaned him up, put him in a fresh sleep sack and then put him back to bed.
An hour later he was crying again and when I went to get him he lost the rest of his puree, all over himself, my arm, his bed and the floor. We were out of clean sleep sacks and clearly he wasn’t feeling well, so I brought him into our bed to sleep with us. He was restless and unhappy for most of the night and finally only fell into a deep sleep around 4 in the morning, which, surprise, is when I had to be up for work.
Which means I got all of 2 hours of sleep before I got to bike to the station to open the kiosk.
Also, Piet had a deadline at work and couldn’t take the day off, so at 7 in the morning when the 3rd day shift person came in, I had to turn right around and bike back home to take care of my sick child on two hours of sleep.
So, in that 2-ish hours of work I found myself dazedly staring out the window of the kiosk, observing the crowd forming in the early morning train station. When I saw the 4 drunken 20-something parading by, the two girls dressed in neon pink leggings, short-shorts and muddy Converse shoes, and one of the guys dressed in a chicken suit, it dawned on me that the Carnival party in Aalst must’ve ended and now all the carefree party goers were on their way home.
So there these people were, stumbling around, clearly having a great time and there I was, trapped in the kiosk, awaiting the coworker at 7 so I could bike home to clean vomit and diarrhea off of my sick baby all day and catch up on laundry (all the vomit covered items from the night before) and dishes.
I mulled this over in my head for a surprisingly short amount of time before realizing that I looked forward to going home to my son, regardless of the circumstances and that, had someone paid my ticket to Aalst and told me they’d babysit my son for the 4 days of shenanigans, I’d still turn them down.
Because I’m not that 20 something anymore, and given the opportunity, I wouldn’t try to have those days back.
They were good while I had them (sometimes), but I cherish the days I have with my son right now more than I miss the days of drinking and partying and goofing around.
Clearly, when it comes to my family, I’m right where I should be.