My children possess a strange ability to fall ill at every school holiday.
This is partially due, I am sure, to their genetic inheritance on my side of the family for major tragedy or malady to strike in and around Thanksgiving each year.
This year was no different.
Just before midnight on Monday I awoke to hear retching and awful splatting sounds in the hallway upstairs. Hero Husband was there already directing the wee one responsible for said retching toward any vessel appropriate for containing the yech.
This was only moderately successful.
Hair holding, back patting and tooth brushing all done it was realized that this unfortunate interlude was actually caused by the wee one to whom I had begun to turn my stink eye.
Miss Thing decided that drinking her Berry Blast Listerine mouthwash sounded like a good idea in the middle of the night when she woke up for a potty break.
Apparently drinking large quantities of fluoride will make you barf.
Berry Blast Listerine = Pink barf
We cleaned up the hallway and carpet, removed the mouthwash from her bathroom and scolded her, but only briefly. Seriously I think the tossing of the cookies had sufficiently taught the lesson better than I could.
Drama done for the night I got on the phone with poison control just to be sure there wasn't anything more we needed to do and we all went to bed.
Sleep is an elusive thing when listening to your child moan, toss and lament her horrible choice. I imagine it was something similar to what her college roommate will listen to at least once 26 years from now when I allow her to move out and have a social life.
Restless night done we all were up and getting ready for our day when Miss Thing complains again.
"Mama my tummy huuurrrrtttts."
"I bet you won't drink mouthwash again will you."
"uuunnnggghhhh" she replied
and then barfed on my kitchen floor
When I picked her up she was running a fever. I'm pretty adept at diagnosing lots of things, including leprosy, but I wasn't entirely sure that fluoride ingestion wouldn't lead to a fever of some sort so I called the pediatrician for confirmation.
Alas, it appears that the mouthwash induced ralphing of the night before was only the prelude. Feverish and feeling puny she crawled into my bed with a strategically placed trashcan and went to sleep.
Until the school nurse called.
Super Son was feeling pretty puny and while not running a fever had gone to the nurses office twice already and foregone his lunch. Altruistic Mom that I am decided to pick him up. His sister was sick and while he might be playing it up, the chance that he had been exposed to whatever virulent plague Miss Thing had contracted was present enough to do my part and spare the other 20 families in his 3rd grade class if I could. I'm a giver didn't you know.
So at this point Miss Thing hasn't thrown up in 6 hours, Super Son is only feeling bad and I am thinking that I might as well get started on my baking for the holiday.
I only needed 3 things.
It would just take me a few minutes to pop into the market and grab them.
Both kids unloaded and standing on the little grassy island waiting as I grabbed my canvas grocery bag (giver remember) when Miss Thing proceeds with the tossing of her cookies yet again. Super Son feeling extremely sympathetic to his sister does the same.
In the parking lot.
Of course everyone knows how much better you feel after unburdening your stomach so with some baby wipes and rinsing of mouths we managed to grab what we came for and return home without further incident.
Sick kids piled into my bed with a movie...I baked
pecan pie, key lime pie, Nantucket cranberry pie, cinnamon rolls
cream cheese stuffed jalapenos, whiskey cranberry relish
The next morning they were both feeling much better and aside from not being very hungry (except for Uncle M's cupcake stash) they were back to their regular shenanigans and we made it to Dallas.
Thanksgiving morning I baked up and iced my cinnamon rolls.
My day could have been done there but then I wouldn't have gotten to sit at this beautiful table
and after these handsome men cooked some stuff to go with my pies
It seemed a shame to waste
My jeans resented it, but I couldn't say no
Then everybody found a comfy place to relax and watch the football games.
The Aggies won. Whoop
And after we got back home we went to the Christmas tree farm where we have cut down our tree for the last 15 years.
Super Son left Miss Thing behind in the play maze.
She had some trouble finding her way out.
I watched her go back and forth, being tall enough to see her passing the spot where she needed to turn.
"Mama" she called "come and get me"
and I did.
All kinds of metaphors there. I dare say I thought of them all and smiled. She can yack on me and still know that I will always come find her in the maze when she can't find her way.
The joys of motherhood
and I remain Thankfully Yours