A vicious virus can wreck a perfect weekend

An ugly bug has reared its head in my life. On Friday, I was introduced to norovirus, a lovely collection of viruses that can be quite serious to vulnerable populations, such as the 1-year-old in my home.

It started with vomiting, then the loss of appetite, followed by a runny nose and then the irritability.

Yup, my son was down for the count.

I scrapped any hopes of it being a productive weekend and put on my mommy cap and went to work making my Peanut as comfortable as possible. Naps were encouraged, blankets were on the couches and floor, sippy cups with fluids were as far as the eye could see.

I've heard horror stories from other parents who go on sleepless sojourns when they're children are ill.

I've heard about the messes in beds and the extreme situations that land you in the emergency room.

Thankfully, my recent situation was not in that league.

My son slept through the night and faithfully took all his regular naps. By day three, I managed to coax him into eating some applesauce and carrots in addition to the fluids and crackers on which he had been subsisting.

My husband was busy assisting me, making sure we had all the supplies we needed, from buying medications to finding the thermometer, from filling the humidifier to fixing the CD player.

After three days of baby funk, we were firing on all cylinders and were managing his symptoms quite well. He seemed to perk up a little and was quietly playing with his toys. I was able to read to him (normally he is a wiggle worm) and I was getting big hugs and regular snuggles.

So, it was not surprising when he toddled up to me in the living room, threw a leg over to sit in my lap and snuggled into me. He started to cry a bit and I tried to soothe him.

I was proud of myself for keeping everything humming along smoothly.

He looked at me and smiled. I smiled back as my heart melted.

Then he vomited on my shirt.

— Sarah Leach is content editor at The Holland Sentinel. Contact her at (616) 546-4278 or sarah.leach@hollandsentinel.com.

Pick a word, any word for this hopeful mama

I sense a shift in the force.

Moms, I have learned, often have a sixth sense when it comes to a developmental leap in their young.

I saw the signs before he started to roll over, before he began to crawl and before he took his first steps.

And now, my Mommy senses are tingling and telling me my toddler's first words are imminent.

In the past week, there has been a spike in frustration as he points to objects he wants and grunts. At first, it was just something he wanted handed to him, but now his wishes are more complicated.

Does that grunt mean he wants his shoes put on? Or does he just want them out of his way? Does he want to share his toys? Or does he want me to put them together (just so he can take them apart).

And then there is the ever-increasing interest in our dog.

Our poor German shepherd has been through so much in the past 14 months. First, a tiny, screaming infant usurped him. His playtime was drastically reduced as work and baby schedules took priority.

Then our older dog, his companion, died. Finally, he has become the resident jungle gym for our little one, who thinks the dog is some sort of animated toy. The fur gets pulled, the body gets tackled, little hands go into the mouth — but he never loses his patience.

It's always surprising to me that all creatures in the animal kingdom have instincts. It happened to me when I became a mother, and it happened with our pets, as they knew a shift had occurred in the household upon bringing the baby home.

And now another adjustment is about to take place, as the “dah!” and “uya!” our little one utters become real words, with real meaning. His understanding is expanding at an amazing rate as he helps bring in groceries (OK, one item taken out of the bag and then dragged down the hall), fetches a book from the shelf and sits on my lap and runs after me as I call him from his room.

My ears and heart are open as I eagerly await his first word. I can just picture it now. He will concentrate really hard, slowly open his mouth … and say … “da-da.”

— Sarah Leach is content editor for The Holland Sentinel. Contact her at (616) 546-4278 or sarah.leach@hollandsentinel.com.

I'm cruising into suburbanite central

It's official. My transformation into suburban soccer mom is complete.

Okay, that might not be entirely true, seeing as how my son only is 14 months old and slighter taller than a soccer ball. However, I have acquired the new status symbol of motherhood: the minivan.

In all honesty, I have secretly desired to own a minivan for years. Stereotypes aside, I loved the functionality, the space, the storage — what wasn't to like?

But I never had a reason to purchase one before. It would seem a little silly to see me cruising down the street in my Chrysler Town & Country, window down, jamming to Alanis Morissette in my late teens — or even Foo Fighters in my late 20s.

But having a baby helped me achieve my lifelong dream of owning one of these fine beauties.

My ascension up the suburban ladder was aided by my late grandmother, who bequeathed her minivan to me. It was a bittersweet moment to pick it up this past weekend. On the one hand, it felt wonderful to know that my grandma was helping my family. On the other hand, it felt awkward and wrong to benefit from her passing.

As I slowly started to go through the personal possessions she left in the van, I noticed a yellow piece of paper. I unfolded it, and discovered it was a letter my grandmother had written to us, her family, in the context of her passing.

She wrote it seven years ago, when she was 79 years old. At the time, I hadn't met my husband, and my two younger cousins were barely teenagers. I began to cry as I read her words:

"You'll never know how much I have loved you — each and every one."

She went on to provide some of the best advice:

• "Youth is precious — don't waste it."

• "If you choose to get an education — work hard at it."

• "The profession you choose should be more than a living."

• "Look past the romantic side of marriage to the day-after-day part of it."

• "When all the plans are made, learn when to be flexible."

• "Compromise is one of the most important things in all aspects of our lives."

Hearing those sage words gave me an incredible amount of closure, and it made me feel more at peace driving that minivan home. Grandma wanted to the best for us and would have insisted I take it anyway.

Now, as I cruise down the street this summer with my window down listening to Adelle, I don't care if people see me as a soccer mom. In fact, I don't care how people see me at all. I've got a great kid, a great life, a great family and a promising future. And I've got great memories of a great lady fueling me forward.

— Sarah Leach is the content editor at The Holland Sentinel. Contact her at (616) 546-4278 or sarah.leach@hollandsentinel.com.