Sleep Overs


For three years, Justin and I managed on our own in Boston.  Sure, we had some terrific babysitters and even a few friends willing to take Robbie every now and then.  But never anything overnight, unless we paid an exorbitant fee.  So, you can imagine how crazy it is for us to have Robbie spend the night out.  For the past month, Robbie has spent the night out at least once a week.

This past Friday, however, was perhaps the most important.  After getting Robbie through his double ear infection, I got really sick myself.  To the point where I left the doctor on Friday afternoon with five prescriptions and a diagnosis of bronchitis and the promise that if I had waited until Monday, it probably would have slipped into pneumonia.  My chest felt like someone had stood on it for ten minutes; it was all I could do to take a regular breath.  All of this with Justin traveling across the country for a week.

Thank God for family, particularly family willing to take Robbie for the night.  Hilary had called earlier in the week to offer a sleepover to give me a break from Robbie (and, ostensibly, give him a break from me).  I had grand plans for the night: cleaning, laundry, and catching up on trashy TV.  Instead, I wound up in bed, puffing on my inhaler, until 11:00 the next morning.  As pitiful as it sounds, I’m not sure that I would have made it through the night if Hilary hadn’t volunteered to keep Robbie.

Monday night, Mom asked if she and Tom could keep Robbie.  Not one to ever turn down an offer like that, Justin and I didn’t even bother to pack Robbie’s bags.  (Don’t worry; he has clothes and pajamas over there!)  We were out the door for an evening with friends fifteen minutes after Robbie was gone.

I feel guilty ever asking Mom or Hilary to watch Robbie – I don’t want them to feel like we are trying to take advantage of their generosity.  And it feels too good to be true when they do offer.  Perhaps the best part?  When I picked Robbie up from Nona’s on Tuesday morning, he said, “So fun to stay at Nona’s, Mom.  Wanna spend the night Aunt Hilary’s!”  I think he’s really got it figured out.


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