bad weekend?

I'm having a kind of mind/emotion battle today, as I think about the weekend. My brain is trying to convince the rest of me that it wasn't a bad weekend. So why do I feel so grumpy today?
We were invited to a family birthday party on Saturday, and had all planned to travel with my mom and dad and stay in a hotel. I had everything ready to do Easter baskets in the hotel room.

Kate stayed home sick from school all week, but was feeling better on Friday (no school for Good Friday.) I had almost everything packed and ready to go Friday night, as the party was at 1 pm and we would have a 3-4 hour drive Saturday morning.

Then Henry woke up at 7:15 Saturday morning and said "I feel siiiiick. I'm feeling siiick, mommy." He felt very warm and his nose had run all over his sheets (ewww). So I made a quick decision. It seemed like the best thing to do was for Bill to stay home with Henry and take him to the doctor, while Thomas and I went on the trip with my parents.

Bill suggested that we could just give him some medicine and still try to go. But I thought of all the bad possibilities: he'd feel worse and worse and someone would have to stay back at the hotel with him so he wouldn't infect all the other party guests; he'd feel worse and worse and we'd have to miss school and work Monday to go to the doctor because we hadn't on Saturday (and Monday was another field trip day!)

So the family split up and the little one and I left town.

Henry spent the rest of the day feeling better and better. The doctor found nothing wrong.

And I spent the rest of the weekend feeling like I made the wrong call.

Now I know, in my brain, that I used good reasoning to come to my decision, and none of us are the worse for it. Henry had a nice weekend at home, while Thomas and I had a nice weekend visiting relatives.

But we stayed in a hotel, with a pool, and I know that would have been fun for Henry. And I think I'm even more disappointed at not getting to "show off" Henry. These were my aunts, uncles and cousins. They only see my kids once a year, at the most. They all know about Henry's diagnosis, and I kind of wanted to let them see the real Henry, not just the picture they might have in their mind, formed when he was 2 years old and screaming at some event...

My aunt had a little Easter egg hunt on her front yard that Thomas participated in. But the rest of the family didn't celebrate Easter at all. At first I thought we might do Easter baskets Sunday evening when I got home. But by the time I got home I thought that idea seemed even more lame than not doing them at all. The boys could really care less anyway, and the items I got for Kate's basket were things like a hand-held Boggle game that I thought she could do in the car. So now I'm being a huge baby and thinking about returning all the stuff I bought for Easter, the purchase of which was just a big waste of time.

Why do I insist on being so disappointed about this?