That’s nothing to sneeze at.

Let me set the scene…

It is winter break.  The boy was celebrated, the house was cleaned, the dog sitter (and then backup dog sitter) were scheduled, the car was packed, and we were all headed to bed early to accommodate the 3:00am departure.  We were dreaming of a little time away and we were more than ready to celebrate Christmas with our family.  Much like a delightful dream {literally and figuratively}, we got a rude awakening around 10:30pm to the tune of insane and ferocious barking.  Our smaller dog was losing her ever-loving-mind and attempting to get through the windows to get whatever was outside.  It turns out, it was merely our new neighbors moving things into their house, at 10:30pm, in suits.  Thankfully, it wasn’t anything important, especially considering the uptick in break-ins and car thefts in our area.  I went in to check on the boy and my mom-thermometer hands detected a very bad, no good, horrible situation which was then confirmed by a real thermometer.  104.6.  Say it with me now…. NOOOOOOOOOO!

We stripped the boy down to his skivvies, gave him cool washcloths and started the Tylenol and Motrin rotation {and all the cartoons}.  His temp came down nicely and by 3:30am, we had him tucked into bed between us.  Deep down, I knew that we were not going to travel for Christmas, but I was secretly hopeful that this was a total fluke and we could get on the road the next day.  Boy was I wrong.  Two visits to the walk-in clinic later, one for the boy and one for the husband, they were both diagnosed with the flu and a double-whammy of flu plus a sinus infection for my husband.  To say they were miserable was an understatement.  I will say, I got a lot of practice of keeping track of two different dosing schedules and balancing the care of two very sad, very sick “patients”.

We dutifully quarantined ourselves with the exception of me running for grocery pickup.  For nine days we stayed inside our house.  Around day five, there was a glimmer of hope that the fevers were gone, but they came back with a vengeance so we started the quarantine clock over again.  This might just be the second worst Christmas of my life.  {The never-to-be-topped “winner” of that title is right after my son was born.  That’s another story for another day.}

As it turns out, it was miserable and wonderful all at the same time.  We were all forced to slow down and take it easy.  There were many naps, all the snuggles, and lots of tv time.  It was a stark contrast to our usual winter breaks which include a mad dash north, a cram-packed schedule, and then a very long, very rough drive back south.  I was devastated at the time, but it turns out it was just what we needed.  A “real” Christmas at home, even if it was fever-filled.