Sicko Kidos

I am crossing my fingers and toes and knocking on wood that Caroline and Tru can avoid (will avoid) whatever little bug attacked Bo and Sascha last week.

Tuesday, I picked Bo up from school around 11 and he was crying. His teacher said she didn't think he felt good and that he had fallen asleep in the reading center and complained of being cold. By the time I got him home and set up in our "sick spot" (aka, the couch bed down in the playroom), his temperature was 102 and it stayed there until sometime overnight when it broke and stayed gone. He was pitiful and lethargic and didn't move except to go to the bathroom. He was so polite though, saying, "No fanks," when I would offer him food or drink. I finally got some medicine down him around 10. Wednesday, we stayed home (so sad that he missed his school Christmas party) and he was slow but better.

Sometime that morning, Sascha handed me an empty bowl and said, "Yum! More crackers please! Those were dood!" I thought and thought, trying to remember giving her a bowl of crackers. I realized with some impending doom that she had been snacking on Bo's food--his half-eaten, germ-covered crackers. We often say that Sascha is too mean to get sick (love her so much), so I had kind of forgotten about her self-exposure until Saturday morning when she was whiny and slow and refused a donut and then barfed her milk everywhere. We cleaned her up (and the floor) and got her settled on the couch where she pretty much stayed for 2 days. Her little bug was harder on her and longer lasting even though her fever wasn't as high (it was a constant 100.2 for 48 hours or so). Bless her heart. Mischievous, energetic, constantly on the go kids seem so much sicker when they are sick. And, God love her, she was more worried about how close she came to throwing up on the Christmas tree then she was about how she felt at the moment.

Today, everyone is pretty ok. I will admit that I am kissing foreheads a little more frequently to secretly check for fevers. My Christmas wish is for the rest of us to stay well and enjoy this break. But here's a word to the wise: milk + feverish belly = fountain of yuck.