When I posted last week that I’d be taking a short trip, I was deliberately cryptic about the destination in part because it wasn’t certain that we were actually going anywhere until the very day that we left.
This most recent trip was actually supposed to happen late last year over New Year’s. My wife and I were supposed to go together, and I described what happened so that I ended up going alone in this post. We decided to return, this time with the 8-month-old baby in tow.
The reason that we weren’t certain if we would make it at all is that last weekend, the three-year-old contracted a stomach bug. We thought he’d be fully recovered before we departed, and he did.
But then, on Wednesday evening (October 16, the night before our travel date), the seven-year-old began complaining of nausea. In the night, he vomited and shortly after that, the other hallmark of stomach flu began.
We were unsure if we should go. We knew he’d be okay, but naturally no one wants to leave a child who isn’t feeling well, and no one wants to make someone else responsible for caring for a sick kid. My wife’s mother gave us a tremendous gift in assuring us that it would be alright, she could handle things in our absence, and fortunately he was much better in another 24 hours.
And we had have some tremendous family and friends who didn’t just cover the bases in our absence, but actually made our time away from the boys really and truly fun for them.
Praise God for such wonderful blessings!