Whew. Okay, I think we are all through with that particular wave of illness. Here's hoping for a few days of respite before the next one hits.
It occurred to me that I might not have given Christer full credit in Tuesday's post for all he does to help mitigate the worry -- both in his care of Max and in his care of me. And if you noticed that he was absent this round of sick-baby-care and subsequent worry, you would be right. That is because he was busy having dinner with this guy:
Um, yeah, I was not going to call him in the middle of meeting Neil DeGrass Tyson to say, "Your baby is sick, come home."
(Okay, maybe I did text him the first part, because I needed some sympathy, but I can totally handle a few hours of puke while Christer's off having an experience. Really.)
Truth is, the last couple of times Max was sick, Christer stepped up and dealt with most of the unpleasantness. Because I was too busy working myself into a worried tizzy to be much use. And when I do worry about the Big Future Worries, my fastest relief comes from the thought that I've got this guy with me every step of the way. Some days we have no idea where we're going, but at least we're in it together.