It is Christmas Eve and we are under quarantine. More or less, I mean. Ron has gone out to get a few last minute items (including lunch). Lucas is miserable with full-blown croup--103+ fever, chills, coughing so hard he vomits, and so on. Alex seems to mostly have a cold with a little touch of croup thrown in. His fever is finally down today, though, so that's been a bright note. We have been really hard to find bright notes the last couple of days.
So tomorrow is Christmas. I have to keep reminding myself, as yet again it doesn't really feel like it. I had held visions of sugar plums and reading special books for the little boys all gathered around the glowing Christmas tree (it is Alex's first Christmas after all). Instead we all huddled on chairs in the master bathroom while a hot shower spray steamed up the room. It was too soggy for books. And we tried to get Lucas excited about Santa, but he just slumped back against Ron's chest and stared off.
Last year Ron & I spent Christmas night proper at Bergan Mercy Hospital trying to stop my contractions with Alex. It worked, but it still took some of the shine off the holiday.
Here's hoping.
At any rate, we will not be going to my parents' house in the morning yet again. And we will not be going to Ron's family gathering either. We will be here--wiping noses, taking temps, doling out the Tylenol drops, holding sick boys in our laps.
Merry Christmas.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment