Cancun, beautiful but a jinx?!

I should have known when Mario woke up for the sixth time last night in the matter of an hour that he was sick.  I should have known because me, Maria, and Jon all had been sick over the last week.  But, that hopeful, optimistic, glass half full person that I am told me it was just him being ornery. 

No more. 

I am a jaded, pessimist who sees the world as the cruel dark place that it is. 

On the seventh awakening, Mario began hurling in his crib with the peaches and cottage cheese of dinner landing on every blanket and crevice in a five feet radius.  Just shoot me.  Of course I had a big facilitation to head up today.  Of course Jon was just starting to feel better and I was just starting to feel alive again.   I sware that God is out to get us for taking that Cancun trip.  Ever since we returned it has been hellish between sickness, bad weather, crappy work issues.  How bad of a mother am I?  My little one is puking his brains out and absolutely miserable and I am wailing in self-pity.

But I deserve to wail!

Of course, the only person Mario wants is his momma when he is sick (really anytime!) so I held him and rocked him and put him over the toilet when he started to cry (which was the sign that puke was coming).  We eventually went downstairs to the couch to watch Little Bear.  It seemed like clockwork; close to the end of every Little Bear he would start crying and then the throw up would begin.  By the fifth Little Bear, he was simply throwing up a little water and then there was the fight of trying not to give him too much water to drink even though he wanted to guzzle it because he was so thirsty. 

By 2:30 am, I was starting to teeter and get a little slap happy.  I should have written on this blog at that time – it would have been a lot more amusing.  By 3 am, I had to get Jon to relieve me. I knew I would be worthless at my retreat if I did not get three hours of sleep.   He graciously came downstairs (I knew he felt like crap) and let me lay in our bed and get some shut-eye.  I cannot stand when you are so fricken’ tired you cannot see straight, but then you hit the bed and you cannot get to sleep.  How is that possible, much less fair?  Well, it happened to me and I was pissed.  I think it was 5 before I feel into a deep sleep only to be awakended shortly thereafter by Maria who was supercharged for sleeping in her bed all night (she gets in our bed every night; at first I loved cuddling with her but now I can’t get back to sleep half the time she comes in). 

I somehow gathered the energy to shower (I really contemplated putting my greasy hair up in a ponytail and throwing on some jeans but I knew that I would regret it an hour later as I stood in front of all of those professionals looking like something the cat drug in), and got Maria to get dressed.  She has been a real trooper the last two weeks, so mature for her age and so sweet.  We got out the door, got to daycare, and I got to my retreat.  My body wanted to lay down on the long board table as soon as I walked in but I put on my best face and got through the day.  Now I sit waiting on a colleague to email me her thoughts on a document so I can get it out to others who are waiting on me for it. 

Really? 

Is this what it has come down to?  One concept that came out of our retreat today is that nothing is perfect.  We may want it to be with all of our heart, but it never will be.  These last two weeks since Cancun are a poster child on non-perfection but how bored would I be if both kids were perfectly healthy, work was slow, I had gotten a ten hours of sleep? 

Ok, it is definitely time for bed.  Goodnight.