"And they’re hanging their stockings," he snarled with a sneer…

Tomorrow is Christmas!  It’s practically here!

We made it through the entire first term of school with no days lost due to illness; despite classmates being knocked down with strep and colds and stomach flues, my kids remained healthy, with only a few minor days of sniffles.  I know someone who takes full responsibility for his child’s health; the lack of illness is due to superior parenting on his part.  However, I take my children’s health as a blessing – one that I supplement with lots of sleep, vitamins and good food, but a blessing nonetheless.  Then on Thursday – the last day of school – Mark mentioned he had a sore throat, but that there was no way he was missing the last day.

A chill of foreboding went through me.  Mark insisted he was well enough for school, and he certainly did seem to be, but this is also the child who insisted he was well enough for school when it was later revealed that he had pneumonia.  To say that I was a bit apprehensive would be an understatement.  And so I was not at all surprised when I picked them up from their shortened day to find that he had a low grade fever.  Jake complained that he was very tired.  We went home, I settled the kids on the couch with Despicable Me, and took Mark’s temperature every half hour or so.  He complained about this; when I told him about rectal thermometers though, he was relieved with the modern technology that is the ear thermometer.

Things got worse and his fever hit 103.  Now, I am of the school of thought that if a child has a virus – which is what I thought – then the best course of action is to stay home and rest with lots of fluids.  Mark was drinking a lot of fluids, and eating some freezies, and eventually the fever went down, hovering between 100 and 101.  He threw up in the night, which made me despair for everyone in the family.  Not Christmas barf!

Yesterday Mark seemed to rally a bit – Jake rallied entirely, spending the entire day dressing up in old Halloween costumes and making pretend spaceships out of fleece blankets – and we played Legos for a bit, before Mark lay back down on the couch.  He woke up from a nap, crying from pain in his throat, with a fever of 103, again.  Now I started to question things.  The doctor’s office was closed.  The only options were the gross petrie dish of a local walk-in clinic and the emergency room.  I tried to get his fever down with cool cloths and Tylenol, all the while googling worst case scenarios and photos of strep.  I peered down his throat with a headlamp, I fretted and took his temperature over and over.  I spent the entire day feeling anxious and a mixture of am I doing enough, or should I take him in?

Today, he’s much better – still a sore throat, still a lack of appetite, but no fever and with semi-normal energy levels.  It’s a Christmas miracle!  At least, hopefully it is and that no one else comes down with this.

So tonight I’m going to make homemade pizza and Caesar salads, after dinner we will watch Elf, put out cookies and milk – traditions must be maintained no matter what one feels about Santa – and then tuck the boys in.  We’re moving Jake’s bed into Mark’s room for a “sleepover”; and then we’ll fill stockings and drink wine.  It will be a perfect Christmas Eve.

And I wish for you, my dear readers, a most perfect Christmas Eve, however you may spend it.  Have yourself a merry little Christmas.  Let your heart be light.  xoxo