Happy Full Moon?

Here I sit.  Latte in hand, hair all twisted up in a bun on the very top of my head in what I like to call my "Pebbles Flintstone" doo and as I rub the sleep from my eyes I look down to see that I am wearing yesterday's shirt......inside out.

I have been up half the night with my youngest child who has a fever of 104 degrees.  The vomiting began around four a.m..  I don't do puke.  I can handle many things.  I don't do puke.  I can wipe tushies, deal with spiders,  fix numerous boo-boos, clean the nasty hair out of the tub drain, even unclog the toilet, but I don't do puke!  As soon as a family member throws up I can feel that wave of nausea come over me.  My legs go numb.  My hands begin to shake.  I do everything in my power NOT to barf.  That power of suggestion is just too great.  I'm a goner.  I'm sick now.  Wonderful.  I can sense that it's going to be a very long day.

I dare not go back to sleep for fear of not waking my son up on time, getting him showered, fed and ready for his bus.  So I watch the clock.  Slowly the numbers change as I fight the urge to close my eyes for just a moment.  Just a teeny little nap.  Fifteen minutes ought to be enough to give me that burst of energy I need.  That kick in the pants as it were.  Forty minutes later I wake up in a panic and throw my son into the shower.  I tell him that cold water is good for his skin.  He will look so handsome today!  I ignore his screams and rush around to pick out an outfit for him that somewhat matches, fling some toothpaste on his Diego toothbrush and hand it to him in the shower and yell "Here!  Brush fast!"

Out and dressed and eating a waffle that is well toasted on one side and still slightly frozen on the other,  we somehow manage to pull my son together just as his bus pulls up in front of our house.

Now on to my sickie.  She is still burning up with a fever.  So I phone the pediatric advice line and begin telling my tale to the person who answers the phone.  She cuts me off and tells me she is not the advice nurse but will happily have an advice nurse call me with 30 minutes.  If I happen to have caller ID blocking on my phone I will need to remove it in order to receive the call.  Just hit *87.  So I do.

Thirty minutes later a nurse calls and I repeat the entire story yet again.  And basically, keep her hydrated, give it another 24 hours and bring her in tomorrow morning to see the doctor is what I am told.  Great.  Thanks. Do you really need a degree to dispense brilliant advise like that to a parent?

Now I am trying to put my caller ID block back on and it is not working.  I have a sick kid.  I have not been able to get out to Dunkin Donuts for my real woman coffee and still feeling sick to my stomach, I throw a chicken into a slow cooker (which I still refer to as my crock pot).  It's still half frozen, but hey,  it can just slow cook all day, right?

Fixing soup (I always have plenty of soup in my pantry) I pull out my mother's stainless steel platter that doubles as a lap tray.  It's one of the few things I have from my mother.   I adore fixing sick trays.  Everything in it's own separate space.  Compartment food.  Nice and neat.  Chicken and rice soup, little oyster crackers, water, juice and a pumpkin napkin.  Tylenol on the side.

My littlest one hydrated and tucked away in bed, I come downstairs to check my email.  I look at the calender and realize that today is the full moon.  Of course it is!  Everything will be back to normal (well, my normal) in 24 hours.  My stomach is feeling a little better now.  Time for a nap.  I need to be awake tonight to see the beautiful harvest moon.