We had plans this Easter.
Big plans.
We were supposed to head into Regina to see Grandma, hang out with all the cousins, go rock climbing with friends, squeeze in a date with an Auntie, and then wrap it all up with Easter supper at the other Grandma and Grandpa’s.
It was going to be a full, busy, memory-making kind of weekend.
And then… the sickness hit.
It started with the five-year-old. Of course it did. The cough, the earache, the general misery. And then, like all things in motherhood, it made its way to me.
And I hate being sick.
Like, according to Danny Ismond, I get a full-blown “man cold” every time because I am that whiny about it. He’s not wrong.
But here’s the thing about holidays — the pressure to create magic is REAL. And let’s be honest… most of that magic falls on moms. And sometimes? It kind of… sucks.
Yes, I said it. Still true.
Because when your kids are crying because they’re heartbroken they can’t go to Grandma’s, you don’t really get to just lay there and feel sorry for yourself, no matter how much you want to.
So I pulled out a treasure chest toy I’d been hiding since December. Boom. Mom win #1.
Then we made Easter cookies. Were there coughs and sneezes involved? Yes. Are we the only ones eating them? Also yes. It was chaos. Sprinkles everywhere. Worth it. Mom win #2.
Then I grabbed a ham (because that’s what you do at Easter, right?) and my husband took over and made an amazing supper. Mom win #3.
And thankfully, the Easter Bunny had already been handled before I went to Langenburg for the week. Mom win #4.
So no, it wasn’t the weekend we planned.
But it was still a win.
Slightly sniffly, slightly whiny… but a win. Now I’m off to curl up in a ball of sickness and tiredness.
Comments