Sometimes Tart

How I Spent September

Well, it happened. I knew it would happen sooner or later. I was hoping it would be later rather than sooner, but it was sooner, as in “the first day of school” sooner.

I was warned by everyone I know who has ever had a kid in day care or pre-school or a church nursery or public that Sean would come home with a virus. So it wasn’t totally unexpected. I didn’t really expect it would be the first day of school. I didn’t expect that it would wipe out our family and my computer for an entire month.

Monday, September 7th: Sean’s first day of his 2-day a week pre-school brought to us by the letter A, as in “antibiotics”.

Tuesday afternoon: Sean is throwing up every 30 minutes. After about the third time, if he even so much as clears his throat I get an adrenaline surge and spirit him into the bathroom. He thinks this is funny and being the Pavlovian creature that he is, he repeatedly coughs and pats his tummy using the universal “I’m about to be sick” sign to see mommy jump. By the end of the day I have washed every towel we own and all of Sean’s pajamas, clothes and sheets at least once, but on the bright side, my gluteus maximals (and I do mean max) and thighs feels much firmer from running in a hunched over position while rushing a 22 lb. two-year-old to the bathroom.

Wednesday: Sean’s second day of school, but Sean is still at home puking. Daddy is also at home, but with another manifestation of the virus to put it politely. It’s now two sick people to one care taker. The laundry continues and sleep is a concept with which I am no longer familiar.

Thursday: Mommy is down for the count with both “manifestations.” Laundry continues unabated. I find myself wondering if I could get into one of those programs for heroine addicts where they are put into a deep sleep until they’ve gone through withdrawal and later wake up feeling all better. I would’ve paid a lot of money for that. Could we get a family discount?

Friday: Everyone is in various stages of intesAMl distress and dealing with their own personal version of the virus. Negotiations occur throughout the day as to which parent feels the least worst and thereby is required to provide minimum care for the boy. Thermometer readings are the tie-breaker. And here’s the thing about the boy – since we all have the same virus, shouldn’t we all feel equally bad? No. The boy pukes and then is Mr. Happy Pants and wants to play. With me. Me, who needs to lay down and have someone bring soup and crackers and pat my head and say “There there, poor you.” I need MY mommy!

Weekend: Everyone still feels like crud. Symptoms have abated somewhat, which just means that when an intesAMl event occurs, you are now caught off guard which then means, you guessed it, more laundry. In spite of the copious amounts of laundering, I praise Mr. Kenmoore or whomever it was that invented this nice machine. This kind of thing would be a lot less fun without a washer and dryer.

Monday: We take Sean to the doctor who instructs us to feed him and to buy Pedialyte in a shade that matches our upholstery. That was immensely helpful.

Tuesday: We are now all marginally well, albeit worn out, but well enough to board an airplane and head off for our first family beach vacation.

Beach vacation: Rain, rip tide, Red Tide, Rita, Oreos, Leggos, Naval Air Museum, local carnival, shoe shopping, black eye, blah blah blah – but no throwing up in rental condo, so beach vacation is deemed a success. (Beach vacation another blog).

Return from beach vacation and turn on computer. Not to be left out, the computer has come down with a virus. In it’s version of intesAMl distress, all of it’s physical memory has gone down the toilet, so to speak. Oh joy. This thrills Antique Daddy as you might imagine because he has sooo much free time to deal with my computer and this is exactly the kind of thing he wants to do when he’s not recovering from a virus and a beach vacation.

October 3rd: Sean’s second day of pre-school now brought to us by the letter “E” as in epidemic. Pay $180 for another month of pre-school and by “month” I’m really hoping that means more than one day.

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