I hate being right all the time. Seriously, I do.  I wish that some of my “predictions” would not come true, especially those about how I would be spending my holiday.  The week before Christmas is when my first premonition came to me.  I was standing with my three year old in his preschool class, when another little boy wandered in the room, visible sick and tired.  One of the teachers asked him if he was “awake yet” and his mother replied “he was up all night coughing.”  It took a lot of will power to not a) smack this idiot parent in the face and b) not to take Jake by the hand and just leave.  Instead, I said goodbye to Jake, said a silent prayer for good health, and walked down the hallway towards the exit listening to the echoing sounds of what I would have diagnosised as whooping cough.  Two and a half days later Jake started with a cold, cough & fever. Cecilia followed late the weekend before Christmas, and Joey started coughing a few days before Christmas.

Jake ended up breaking his fever over the weekend, but in an effort not to share what he had, we kept him home to recoup (which meant he missed his Christmas party & festivities).  Cecilia also broke her fever the Monday before Christmas, and Joey who was still “well” attended school the week before Christmas which was just Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.  I volunteered at school to help out all morning Monday & Tuesday during which several kids had to go home because they were still sick or had become sick.  One child, who was puking all day Monday, returned, still sick and feverish Tuesday, was sent home before 10am and was back on Wednesday to spread his holiday cheer again.  It’s cases like this, where the school’s policy is that the child must be fever free for 24 hours, that I think the school should be able to say, “Sorry! Take your sick kid home you horrible parent! We said 24 hours fever free! You think all these kids want to be puking on Christmas?!”  Premonition #2 befell me Wednesday at Joey’s Christmas party as I observed him sitting in between two of the sick pukey kids from Monday & Tuesday trading & sharing snacks. Yum!

Christmas Eve we had no fevers (it had now been over a week after they started and only had mild-lingering cold symptoms), but as I packed my holiday diaper bag, I told my husband to take our spare trashcan and stick it in the back of the truck just in case someone needed it.  As he was packing the food, presents, and kids, he mumbled something about me being a “weirdo” but still took the trashcan and placed it in the back of the truck anyway.  My thought process here was that just two days before Joey was sharing snacks with his two barf-buddies, and we hadn’t quite cleared the “incubation” period.

As we pulled back in the driveway after a long but enjoyable Christmas Eve party, I was happy that my husband was right about me being such a “weirdo” and that the trashcan was still sitting in the trunk unused.  Christmas morning was not quite as happy as I would have hoped, but after a late and exhausting evening, I assumed my cranky kids were just feeling the effects of the holiday.

Before we got back in the car that afternoon for another 40 mile trip (each way), Jake complained of a headache, so we gave him some Motrin and headed north.  We had another fabulous party, and the gift exchanges were a hit again. Great food, good people, and did I mention the food?  The kid’s palates are a little less refined and they enjoyed bowls of candies and seemingly unending cups of juice in combination with the excitement of so many gifts.  Jake had been using his best “Oliver Twist/Puppy Dog Eyes” to get handfuls of M&M’s from various Aunts, Uncles & cousins, and after a sugar high, all the kids, including Jake, seemed to be finally winding down as we hit 157 miles of our 160 mile round trip Christmas 2010 bonanza.  Expecting snow the next day, and with the car quiet, my husband pulled into a gas station about three miles from home just as Jake began to puke juice, M&M’s and Motrin all over himself.

Without a thought, he threw the car in park and ran and grabbed the trashcan from the back of the car that his weirdo-wife insisted on taking the night before just in time for me to jump in the back over the seat and catch “most” of what his body was rejecting into the can.  It was moments like this, standing in someone else’s sick, facing backwards in the car, nearly home after the longest two days of my life, that I hated being right.  My husband, the next day however, refused to admit I was right because he says I wanted the trashcan for the wrong kid and he was puking from 8lbs of candy and not from a virus.  Give me a break!  Sorry that my crystal ball ain’t so crystal clear.  My mother’s intuition got most of it right…at least the important parts.

All the running around, excitement and junk took it’s toll on Jake though.  After 9 days of a cold (which we’re told by doctor’s can last 7-14 days in kids), poor Jake developed a fever again and they advised me he had to be seen (in the snow storm) at a Urgent Care Center.  After he and I spent four hours and what will undoubtedly be hundreds of dollars with the tests/X-Rays, Jake was diagnosed with walking pneumonia.  The following day, just after the snow storm ended (and with 8″ of snow on the roads) Cecilia redeveloped a fever after 9 days of cold and earned herself her very first ear infection.  My husband soon followed with an antibiotic, and Joey and I were the only two to come out un-medicated.  So we spent the week battling secondary infections, running humidifiers, and finally were well for New Year’s Eve.  I am now enjoying our third consecutive day of good health, before school starts back tomorrow.  Anybody seen my bubble?

Hope you all had a Happy Holiday & Hope you all have a fabulous & happy New Year!

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