Mommy called when she got off work Saturday afternoon.
“I’m off, but I don’t know what to do. I’m soooooo tired, and I just want to go home and go to sleep! I’m just exhausted, and I can barely walk. I guess it’s because the baby dropped.”
I told Mommy in no uncertain terms that I thought that she really needed to go home and get some rest. She’s at 35 weeks, and looks full term and ready to deliver. If she came here, overjoyed little boys would be bouncing off her like a trampoline, plus she might not get much sleep if the youngest were to be wakeful or have to go potty a couple times in the night. She felt bad about it but really wanted to get some sleep.
I went out to tell the boys who were out with SwampMan, but SwampMan yelled to me as soon as I walked outside that they were all going out for ice cream and if I wanted any, I better jump in the truck PDQ. I briefly considered my diet, then mentally shrugged and decided ice cream calories do not count if somebody else is buying.
By the time we reached the McDonald’s drive through, Dylan was fast asleep. Jacob started eating his ice cream, and then asked if Mommy would be home by the time we got there. Ooops. I had to break the sad news that Mommy wasn’t feeling well, and went home instead.
“You mean Mommy was just trickin’ us when she said that she was coming? That wasn’t very nice.”
“No, honey, Mommy really did mean to come, but she isn’t feeling good. She’ll be here earlier tomorrow.” He sniffled a little because he loves and misses his Mommy so much, but manfully pulled himself together and ate his ice cream.
When we got home, I carried little Dylan into the house. He was still *very* tired and cranky. “Where’s Mommy? When will she get here?”
Oh, snap. He was asleep for the news.
“Mommy went home instead of coming here because she didn’t feel good and wanted to go home and go to sleep.”
“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!! I want my MOMMY!”
*sigh* In his tired and cranky state, he had the potential to go into a prolonged crying spell. In my tired and cranky state, I didn’t want to hear it!
“Dylan, you are going to have to dry that up right now. It is not Mommy’s fault that she’s sick!”
“But I WANT her!” wailed Dylan.
“You want Mommy to barf on you?”
Shocked look. “Mommy doesn’t barf on me!”
“She might! Mommy is sick, so she needs to go home and go to bed.”
I had to cuddle him on my lap for awhile, but he eventually went to sleep.