There is nothing worse than coming home from a relaxing beach vacation with a sick kid.
Wait, that’s not true; it can always be worse. As in, K-Bear could have been sick while I was jogging jungle trails, practicing yoga overlooking a lagoon, or sitting in a hydrotherapy spa with a green smoothie. Because I’m sure I couldn’t have done all those things if she wasn’t well enough to dig in the sand with Nana, splash in the Aquapark with SoulDaddy or run in circles in the Kids Club with a few dozen other children whose parents ditched them for some R&R.
So thank you, K-Bear for waiting until we were state side for your cough to worsen and the wheezing to start. Four loads of laundry and two hours of grocery shopping have nothing on a whining toddler. Hello reality. Continue reading
