  Last night was the worst parenting night we've ever had. Aidan was so congested that he would wake up in a panic from not being able to breath at least every thirty minutes. Additionally, he had fever-induced delirious dreams that interfered with his perceptions of reality when he awoke. He would scream things like, "daddy can't see me! " John and I were already exhausted from his night the previous night, after the meningitis scare.
We took turns soothing him, sitting in the shower with him, making him teas. It's the sickest he's ever been. On top of all that, I've pulled some muscle in my back so rocking and holding him was pretty painful. We've been planning to go to Chaco Canyon this year for my birthday as long as I can remember. After Chaco, we were going to backpack Winsor Trail to Santa Fe Baldy: the kids first ever backpack.
With heavy hearts, we pulled the plug on the trip. We were planning to leave for New Mexico after John got off from work today, arriving sometime tomorrow. After staying up all night two nights in a row, we hardly feel like driving. Plus, we want to prepare for the likelihood of the other three of us coming down with strep this week. We'll still go to NM sometime in the next few weeks, but no once in a lifetime Chaco Canyon solstice experience.
Honestly, I'm OK with this, even if it's a little heart piercing. Chaco is such a special place, I'm certain it draws people to it. The last time we were there, we sat at the edge of the biggest kiva and crossed paths with a man from Wisconsin who engineers off-grid housing. He inspired us to look further into sustainable housing, and that in turn affected both John's and my careers immeasurably. That the universe isn't aligning to get me there right now is a message. We narrowly missed the solstice at Stonehenge last year, so maybe my solstice-watching isn't meant to be. On a separate note, this week furthers my longing for geographically local grandparents. On the day-to-day basis, I miss the companionship, the extra eye on the kids, the family dinners.
But for the hardest days, like today, I miss the two-hour breather a grandparent could provide. I could shower, take a nap, and resume my mom duties like Pop-eye after spinach. Again, I'm haunted by the realization: parents were never meant to do this alone. 
