It was like the movie "Groundhog Day" around here this summer. Every day the same. I was dealing with 'morning' sickness that is more like 'debilitating-all-day' sickness for me, and we finally had to get some help in the form of a girl that came in the mornings to watch the boys for about 6 weeks.
So everyday was the same...starting at about 3am, I would get sick. Crawl back to bed sometime around 5 or 6am take a Zofran and pray for death. Stephen would wake up with boys at 7am. 8am girl would show up and Stephen would go to work. Noon, Stephen's home for lunch, I take another Zofran. After lunch, Stephen gets boys down for their 'nap', before heading back to work at 1pm. 2pm, after about an hour of (sometimes) quiet time, I pry myself out of bed, apply swimsuits and sunscreen, and it was out the door for swim lessons. After lessons, another Zofran for me, a snack for the boys, then I would plug them into a show, curl up on the couch and zone out until Stephen came home then I would retreat to bed as soon as he'd let me.
On paper, it kinda sounds like a dream come true, in bed til 2, lazing about all the time, but it was honest-to-God, THE hardest summer of my life. Not being able to take care of my family, even though it was a temporary situation, was surprisingly heart breaking. And even though we were all under the same roof, I really missed them because even when I was awake, it was hard to be present.
Despite being so sick, I managed to take the boys to swimming lessons almost every day. We had a ton of missed classes because of weather, but squeezed in several make-ups in the last few weeks and I'm so proud of how far they came.
The first day of swimming lessons was horrible...Jack refused to get in the water. When I threatened to spank him if he didn't cooperate, he flat out said, "I want a spanking." I realized, he wasn't being stubborn, he was just terrified. And no, I didn't spank him, in case you were wondering. Carter got in, sort of, but repeatedly told his coach, his classmates, and anyone else that would listen, that he didn't want to die.
The last day of summer lessons was a whole different story. They were like two different kids. Carter was gliding underwater with his pancake hands and kicking really well. Jack jumped in, kicked around using a kick board, and put his face under water.
Their attitude was what I was most proud of, especially Carter's. I signed him up for twice as many lessons as Jack and the schedule was nuts. Mondays and Wednesdays he saw a different teacher than Tuesdays and Thursdays, and to make things crazier, his Monday/Wednesday teacher changed twice over the summer. Didn't matter, every day I'd go upstairs to let him know it was time for swimming lessons, and he'd ask "which coach is it?" I would tell him, then he'd get on his swimsuit and head for door without another question. Other than the first day, he walked right up to the water and did his thing with honest enthusiasm and joy. Every day, and I'm not exaggerating, it was incredible. Jack did really well too. He's two, so clearly there were a few days when his heart wasn't in it, and it took some cajoling to get him in his swimsuit, in the car, and/or in the water, but for the most part he was very cooperative.
And of course Stephen was amazing this summer. Incredible. Beyond incredible. In fact, words just can't describe how hard he busted his ass to take care of our family almost completely by himself for close to 2 months. His relationship with the boys grew so much too - they all became so close this summer, it was incredible to watch. The three of them were just inseparable...the boys of summer.
I love my boys. All three of the men in this house are just incredible in their own way. I always knew it, but this summer just reinforced what a lucky lady I am to be a part of this family.