the circus

As we were finally nearing the door this morning to get to daycare/preschool/work, I had Bug but no Squish.

"[Squish], time to go... come on to the door, please..."

Nothing.  Then I heard some banging around in the bathroom.

I left Bug at the front door and went in search of Squish the Rascal.

like crazy

On Sunday afternoon, about ten days ago, the boys were napping, and I was at the dining table crying.  Telling my husband how awful it felt to put them in daycare/preschool for nine or more hours a day.  Telling my husband how much I hate the occasional travel I do for work. 

My husband kindly said, "They are thriving.  You do not have to feel bad, love."

I replied, "Maybe they are okay, but maybe I am not.  Maybe I need to spend more time with them."

Then, about thirty minutes later, I was getting in a car to the airport for a work trip to Houston.  That Tuesday night, I was home again.

Wednesday morning, before the sun was up, before I was willing to get out of bed, my husband dropped Squish in my bed as he left for work.  Squish, Bug, and I were a little pile of cuddles and jokes and giggles. 

Then, Squish barfed.  Everywhere.