As I titled this post, I realized that this is our last “first” holiday with Lincoln. And boy was it a doozie. The story starts Thursday morning. My best friend, Stephanie, and I had decided that we should take a shopping trip while she was in town. I was so excited to get to go shopping without a baby in tow and to get to spend the day with her. I also planned on finishing my shopping for Lincoln’s Easter outfit. I thought it was strange that he was sleeping in this morning, but I just figured I should count it as a blessing. Well, it definitely wasn’t a blessing. I went in when I heard him wake up to find him burning up with a fever. I took his temp, and sure enough, it said 101.3. Somehow in a 30 second span, my day changed from a shopping trip with my friend to sitting home with a sick baby. So on and off for the next couple of days, we dealt with a sad, feverish little boy.
Because he had been sick, I didn’t get to go shopping to finish getting his Easter outfit together. And I guess it didn’t matter since we had to spend the day at home anyway. So for the first time in my life, I didn’t go to church on Easter Sunday. I was super bummed. I was even more bummed when a girl who goes to our church wrote on Facebook about what a great service it was. But what I’ve learned is that when your child gets sick, your world basically stops turning.
Since we would be stuck at home all day, my family decided to come over for lunch. Now, sometimes I think these little situations come my way because I really don’t like for my plans to get messed up. I had visions of Lincoln dressed in the perfect outfit, a family trip to church, beautiful decorations and food at my house. That bubble was burst.
I accidentally overslept to start the day off. Usually Lincoln is my alarm clock, but he has been sleeping in since he’s been sick. So I was already behind before I got up. Even though he didn’t have a fever this morning, he was exceptionally grouchy. One thing that’s frustrating about kids is that they make it more difficult to enjoy the things you used to enjoy. I like to bake. I like to cook. I like to make ridiculous decorations for my table for holidays. So here I am attempting to be Martha Junior, and Lincoln is literally following me everywhere I go crying at me. I put him in his walker, but then he could just stalk me even faster on wheels. He was constantly behind me tugging on my dress, and at one point, untying my apron to get my attention. Now I’m behind schedule and trying to juggle baking & cooking with taking care of a grumpy baby. It’s times like these that I have to remind myself that having a baby means you can’t do things the way you used to do them. You can’t enjoy things in the same way you used to, but a baby brings new kinds of joy and new ways to experience things. If I were less stubborn, I would’ve ordered some BBQ from Sonny’s and called it a day. But I really wanted to make a home-cooked meal. Just call me a glutton for punishment. At the end of the day, I just had to remind myself that Easter is about celebrating my Savior and the sacrifice He made for me. Everything else doesn’t matter. It wasn’t the day I envisioned at all. But that’s kind of like every day in the world of motherhood, isn’t it?
I tried a new cupcake recipe. Martha’s vanilla cupcakes with strawberry meringue buttercream. OMG. Yum. These were going to be decorated much, much cuter, but the fussing baby in the background helped me to decide to just throw some sprinkles on top.
I’m pretty much a 5 year old in a 27 year old’s body. Hence my decision to make chocolate covered Rice Krispie treats that look like bunnies. Don’t judge. Or do. I don’t care, because they were good.
Eating some lunch. He’s been eating more “real” food and not so many purees, but I had a hard time getting him to eat while he was sick, so back to the safety of the jar we went.
I swore that I would never use the cheesy, plastic Easter eggs, but a sick baby changes everything. We didn’t get to color real eggs. I mean, we could have, but he hasn’t been in the best mood, so we skipped it. In the end it was good, because his absolute favorite part of Easter was throwng the eggs on the floor repeatedly.
Lincoln wasn’t the only one who liked the plastic eggs. At one point, Peanut came right up and took an egg out of Lincoln’s hands. Lincoln did not appreciate that at all.
My mom likes to bathe Lincoln in the kitchen sink. If she’s offering to do bath time duty, she can hose him down in the front yard for all I care. As you can see, the eggs even make an appearance at bath time.