What a weekend! If you’ve been following along on Instagram, then you likely saw our Labor Day Weekend was…eventful. Nate left for his two week-long hunting trip on Friday morning. On Saturday us gals and Bruce packed up to spend the night at a friend’s house. I completely underestimated how difficult it is to pack up two children and a dog while alone, as Magnolia did not want to be put down. We finally made it–only a few hours late, no big deal! Then, Waverley tripped while running and landed on a tree stump (I can only assume as I did not actually see it), which left her with a golfball-sized hematoma in the middle of her forehead. She truly is a unicorn! Now, if you know Waverley well then you know she does not take kindly to any bodily injury. This is by far the most severe injury she’s encountered which left her extra moody, even more susceptible to tantrums, and wanting 100% of her mother’s attention and affection. This is a very convenient combination when single-parenting. Fortunately the bump was not severe enough to garner a trip to the emergency room and I kept a close eye on her to rule out a concussion. Naturally, my pediatric OT heart was bursting with anxiety as I’ve seen lesser injuries lead to worse outcomes. Usually Nate can reel in this psychosis, but alas, my mind was left to wander.

The gals, Bruce, and I all shared a bedroom that night, which meant I was privy to the sounds of near-death emanating from Magnolia starting at 1:30am. I’ve never heard such a horrible, desperate cough in my life. I truly thought she was suffocating. I went to grab her from her pack-and-play only to find two electric toy guitars in there that she was sleeping on. (Thanks, Waverley!) I thought maybe she had choked on a piece as her breathing was so labored. I spent the rest of the night holding her with the light on to ensure she did not turn blue while she coughed and wheezed, wondering if I should take her to the emergency room at that moment (we were about an hour from the hospital) or wait until the morning. She seemed unaffected by the coughing so I decided to wait. At some point we both fell asleep for a bit because I woke up to Waverley in bed and Mini’s coughing had stopped. What? Did that even happen? I couldn’t believe the night I’d just had and the terror I’d felt only to have the cough disappear? It turns out she had spasmodic croup. Fortunately it has since resolved itself and now she appears to just have a common cold with a normal cough. Phew! No hospitalization needed. The PTSD, however, is still present.

We laid pretty low the rest of the weekend, spending time at home in a humidifier/essential oil diffuser haze and going on walks. We’ve been watching The Lion King on repeat as it recently was re-released. Waverley wonders how I know the words to every song and why do I keep crying when the baby lions are hoisted up on pride rock? I finally felt comfortable letting the gals out of my sight today for a few hours so I could workout. The weekend was rough to handle solo but, like most things in motherhood, there’s just literally no other choice except to do it. And when I say “do it” I don’t mean be a mere physical presence, I mean be a mother: to handle these situations with patience and love through the numbing physical and emotional exhaustion. Then you come out on the other side thinking, okay, wow, I did that. I am capable of so much. Now let’s get doughnuts.

I’m incredibly grateful for all of the Instagram messages, text messages, and comments of support. Although I was solo at home, I felt the helping hands of so many mothers lifting me up. It’s quite the club we’re in. Thank you!