This past week turned out kinda differently than I had planned.

Wes was sick over the weekend. He woke up several times Saturday night, I think because he was dry heaving. He slept pretty much all day Sunday. Occasionally I’d pull him out of bed when he was awake to see if he wanted to watch Barney or Signing Time, but he’d fall asleep again after a few minutes. He threw up a few times after I tried to give him something to drink. On Monday he was better, playing and acting a lot more normally, even eating pretzels and drinking diluted milk.

Both kids had a doctor’s appointment on Monday. It was Carissa’s two-month checkup and Wesley’s three-year one. I knew it’d be a little tiring for me, keeping a handle on Wes and keeping him from touching things he shouldn’t at a doctor’s office while keeping Carissa content. Carissa was scheduled for immunizations, but the surprise was that Wes needed a booster shot, and we decided to give him a flu shot too.

I managed to get both kids through their various weighings and measurings, pokings and proddings, and both came away appearing healthy and growing. Carissa is already 9 lbs 10 oz and 22 inches long, up from 7 lbs 9 oz and 19.5 inches at birth. That’s 23rd percentile for weight and 38th for length. Wes is 27 lbs and 34.5 inches. On the “typical kid” chart, that’s 11th percentile for weight and 2nd for height. It would be a higher percentile on the DS chart.

When it came time for shots I opted for Wes to get his first so he could calm down a little before Carissa got hers. Good decision. He cried, of course, but he got over it once he saw that Carissa was getting something done to her. He was more concerned about her than him and quickly forgot his own little pokes. Carissa, I have to say, did not handle the shots especially gracefully. I don’t remember Wes as a baby crying quite as much or as long as she did. It took a while for her to calm down. But at least both kids weren’t crying at once.

Wes was fussy and cranky the rest of the day, probably because he wasn’t feeling all that great. I had planned to go to a Zumba class that night once he was in bed. I needed the exercise and sometimes it’s nice to do something just for me. Frankly, I was a little tired of cleaning up throw up. Even the cat had thrown up. I settled Wes in bed a little after 8 and about three minutes after I left him I heard him crying. I went to check on him and he had thrown up. Everywhere. I changed his clothes, changed his sheets. Cleaned the carpet. Cleaned the mattress and crib rails. Started laundry. Got him settled again and by then it was close to 10 p.m. Time for bed.

Tuesday he was even better. However, a couple hours before I had to leave to teach my first Zumba class I started feeling not-so-great. But I went and taught my class anyway. I took a bottle of Sprite for my tummy. Class was actually pretty good, but the further into it the more sick I got. By the end I was not doing so great. Afterward I sat a few minutes to gather my strength and a couple of my students kindly offered to help me out to my car. I had one more class to teach, but I was able to find a sub on short notice, which I was grateful for.

I went home feeling miserable and crashed. I think I was pretty dehydrated. After several hours of sipping water and sleeping I started to feel better. The next day was better.

On Thursday I was going to send Wes back to school (we kept him home on Tuesday as he recovered). I was excited because usually I use that time he’s at school for getting things done related to work, but since I had a sub lined up for my class that night, I could use those hours for something purely fun or me-oriented. And Wes was so excited, sitting out on the front porch with his denim jacket and backpack and lunchbox all packed, waiting for the bus. And it didn’t come. And didn’t come. And didn’t come. The bus has been late before, but after a while I finally put 2 and 2 together and realized that’s Fall Break and there is no school.

So Plan B was to take Wes and Carissa for a ride in the car to Walmart so he could still go somewhere and I could get some errands accomplished. It wasn’t exactly fun or me-oriented, but it was productive. We go and get everything on the list, the kids are both being good, and we finish up with just enough time to get Wes home in time for his nap. Perfect.

Then I’m standing in line with all our items on the conveyor belt when I fish through my purse and realize my wallet’s at home. Dang it.

So I apologize to the clerk and tell her I’ll be back soon, take both kids back to the car, drive home, get the wallet, and drive back to Walmart. By this time Wes is dead asleep. I pull him from the car and into the cart, but he can’t stay awake. He keeps nodding off and wanting to lay his head on the front handle. I was so worried the Walmart cashier would be all snotty with me for forgetting my wallet, but I was relieved to find she was a nice cashier! She had set aside all my bags and simply scanned the receipt so I could pay for it. Then she looked at Wes and said she has a friend with Down syndrome, and she thinks her friend is more normal than not. Which I agreed with. And then she said, “I think he may give you a run for your money.” Which I also agreed with.

So that’s the week so far. A few more days to go.