When the kids were little(r), packing for a weekend up north was a big production. Diapers, sippy cups, tiny spoons, booster seat, nursery monitor, and on and on and on. Sure, there are stores up here if you forget the Cheerios, but you're SOL if you leave the stroller propped up by the mudroom door at home. Nowadays I make sure I have Steph's meds; pretty much everything else is hit-or-miss. We've forgotten ski gear and had to rent, we've left behind the pile of raincoats and gotten soaked, we've neglected to bring the favorite flavor of bagels (egg with poppy seed) and had to settle for plain. No big deal.
We invariably forget something—hopefully not one of the kids' "bed guys" or my glasses—but we manage. So, for this trip, Andy has already realized that he forgot his swimsuit, and we're planning to go to Skeev City Whale's Tale water park tomorrow. So he'll have to just wear his shorts. But last night Pete got up in the middle of the night with a headache, and I realized that for the first time ever, I forgot to bring my little pouch of children's Tylenol, Benadryl, thermometer, cough syrup, etc. I've brought it every other time—and never needed it! I felt so bad that I couldn't give him anything, and the stores up here aren't open all night. So he and I snuck off to an empty bed where I could rub his head and his palms. (I hope you all know that you can temporarily relieve a headache by kneading deeply the pads of the palm where the thumb starts—the headache comes back the instant you stop rubbing, but at least there's some relief to be had.) I also got to spoon him, which is just such a yummy bonus of Mama-hood that I can't tell you. He eventually fell asleep—I didn't, of course, though, until he'd already crept back to his own bed and I tossed and turned for a few more hours. Then, in the morning, he came in and woke me to tell me that his headache was gone! He felt fine! Uh, good morning to you, too.
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