Christmastime…is here….

Nearly every year that we have been together, my husband and I have gone to Banff for a night around Christmas time. It’s a lovely tradition – Banff is so beautiful at Christmas with the lights, and the snow, and the mountains – and that is what we did this weekend. This was the first time since having kids that I was actually relaxed about leaving them, despite the fact that Jake was unusually clingy when we left (foreshadowing).

I called a couple of times when we arrived and my mother assured me everything was going well, but she mentioned Jake seemed quiet (more foreshadowing). Reassured by my phone calls, my husband and I proceeded to have a lovely night away. Walking by the river! Hot-tubbing! Dinner in a restaurant! Drinks and (very bad) live music at a pub! So much fun, and I was so happy, somewhat drunk, and full of that Christmassy-feeling.

When we got home the next day, the boys came to greet me at the door. Jake took one look at me and barfed.

I tried not to take it personally.

Last year, Christmas vacation was marked by all of us getting colds (mine lasting a spectacular FOUR WEEKS), Mark spending Christmas Day barfing, and Jake getting a high fever and ear infection that culminated in a perforated ear drum. This chain of illness was kicked off by…get this…Jake barfing while we were on our Banff trip! So I’m a little worried that history is going to repeat itself. Which is silly. What good can possibly come of fretting about getting sick? If we’re going to get sick, we’re going to get sick. No use in worrying.

But what if that is my destiny forever? What if one day we have a germ-free Christmas and I’m all “Christmas just doesn’t seem like Christmas without any vomit!” (Sorry, Louisa May Alcott).

Ah well. Jake seems better today – not normal, mind you, but better. So I guess I will hope for the best and not spend any energy worrying about it.