going the distance

"Life is a marathon, not a sprint." I see where the author was going with this. But life with a kid is a marathon that never ends. And the hub and I are in it. This week Britton has gotten sick for the first real time (other than the reflux episodes and one-month-long snotty nose from daycare). She started coughing Saturday night, and has now progressed to throwing up snot and drainage that could substitute as a waterfall. She is miserable, but she doesn't show it, and is still pushing to be in good spirits. Yesterday when I dropped her off at daycare, I asked Ms. E to give me a call if Britton got worse, started running a fever, or anything that gave her pause. She called around 1:30 p.m. to say that Britton had thrown up multiple times, and was in her last clean emergency outfit and that while she was allowed to stay at daycare, she might be more comfortable at home. The hub picked her up on the way home to wait for the garage door repairman (another story, and when I tell it the veins in my forehead bulge).

We decided to keep Britton home today. So today marks the first day I have taken off from my new job. Now, I don't have any days off until April 5th. So, I will have to make up 8 hours, on top of the 8 hours I already work every day. Plus the 1 hour lunch and the 1 hour of commuting to and from work. If I leave for work early, Britton pays by having to wake early. If I leave work too late, Britton pays some more because I'm not home to feed her dinner and put her to bed. To be there for my daughter in her sickness, I must miss out on the rest of it, at least the 8 hours I must make up when I could be with her.

When I started work, I told the hub that there were going to be times when we each thought we were the one doing more work, the one giving more and receiving less, the one who felt taken for granted, the one who desperately needed a medal or parade or some recognition for what we thought was a job above-and-beyond. And, in this marathon, there isn't. But I have found that through the good and tough times, when we're tired or stressed or short on time and patience, we still don't feel taken for granted. I was wrong in my assumption; we don't grab at recognition, we work together. Seamlessly, effortlessly, we share the load to lighten it for each of us.

I get to spend the day with my baby girl and soothe her while she is sick. Then while I am making up 8 hours of work, the hub will get to spend the time playing with Britton, and feeding her, and rocking her, and making her laugh, and helping her crawl. We both win this marathon.