I was scrolling down my photos on my phone and came across this one I took a couple days ago,
Nathan caught a pretty horrible bug one day that led him to throwing up every eight minutes for almost 8 hours.
That day started off great! It was a Saturday and he woke up and went on a daddy date while I slept in. Caleb told me that they had lots of fun and nothing was abnormal about Nathan.
I put Nathan down for a nap around 11:45am, left to eat some lunch and 12 minutes later after I heard some coughing from him, I heard a horrible scream for me. I ran in there and there he sat in the largest pile of throw up a 23 month old should ever have to throw up… Alone.
I picked him up, ran to the garage to get Caleb to help me and the day right then changed.
The whole day as we held him and told him it was okay and kissed him, I couldn’t stop thinking how he had to throw up all by himself that first time. He’s only thrown up twice before and I was there both times. I felt like a horrible mom. For almost a month I have napped with him because I have been so tired, but this day I slept in and chose to eat all by myself in peace. How selfish. Why didn’t I nap with him? Why didn’t I check on him when I heard him cough?
He got better, and the next day we recovered at home. Just relaxed and watched Nathan.
The following day we went to the park. That is where this picture was taken.
This day at the park there was only two little girls there. Sisters. 7 and 4. They loved Nathan and the 4 year old called him boyfriend the whole time. Nathan had a great time and played and talked with them and learned how to climb new things from watching them.
Then came two little boys. Brothers. 7 and 4. They came into the park like a tornado! They didn’t want anything to do with Nathan, they were in there own world of playing tag. They eventually ran off into the big grassy field and that’s when Nathan’s eyes got so big, “mama running” and he was off chasing after them.
As I chased after him, he randomly stopped and reached up and grabbed my hand. I took this photo. He stopped running (not normal for him). He waited for me. He grabbed my hand.
Nathan and I have a great relationship. We hold hands all the time. We hold hands sitting on the couch or I force hold his hand in the parking lot as he screams “no mama” over and over because he thinks cars won’t hit him or something.
I felt so loved in these few moments that he held my hand. I felt some rest and some peace and pure love. He chose to hold my hand instead of chasing after the two cool older brothers.
I want to love Jesus the way Nathan loves me. I want Jesus to feel I love him the way I feel love from Nathan.
I want to stop in my busy day or busy thought and hold the hand of Jesus. I want him to know I care. I want him to know he matters to me. Although I get busy in chasing after my toddler and chasing after naps from being so tired and chasing after free time so I can stair at a wall and just breath for a second, I want Jesus to know he is the center of my life and I love him.
After a weekend of sickness and feeling like a horrible mom (#momguilt all day) for not being there that first puke session, it was so rewarding to have Nathan hold my hand for a couple minutes.
That is great love.