Absolved

I saw the call come in on my second line at work. I was in a phone meeting, but I didn't recognize the number and that usually is not good. It was local. It was probably someone I needed to talk to. I quietly put my meeting on hold and picked up the incoming call.

"This is Laura," I said, as I do when I answer my work phone.

"Hi, it's Susan," started one of Little Dog's teachers at preschool. "It looks like Little Dog is the next one in our class to get sick."

"Oh no!" I said.

"He threw up at snack," she started but before she could continue, I cut to the chase.

"I'll come pick him up." I said. "I'm sorry." I added, as though I played some part in his illness. For the record, I did not. And I did not drop off a sick child this morning. In fact, it was a good morning. He woke up with a smile, got up, ate breakfast, played with his brother, got dressed and happily ran off to play when we got to school. No morning drama, which I am becoming all too accustomed to. No, today was a good day. Until snack.

I returned to my phone meeting and as soon as it was possible, I excused myself. I sent out an email and headed off to pick up Little Dog.

When I got to his preschool, he was sitting at one of the small tables with his head down while his friends played around him. When he saw me, he started to cry. Sad sobbing with that extra something only a sick little boy can add.

I picked him up, spoke briefly to his teacher, collected his belongings and got him to the car. My normally vibrant and feisty boy was miserable. He hardly held his head up and when we had to stop for gas on the way home, he was hit by nausea again. I managed to get a sweater in front of him before he christened my car, but only just.

As we drove home I talked to my little guy.

"Oh angel boy, I'm so sorry you are sick," I said, glancing in the rear view mirror at his very subdued little face.

"It not your fault, mama" he said in the saddest little sick boy voice. "It not your fault."

Aw, sweetness. I didn't even try to explain what I meant.

Life after "The" flu.

Early this year both boys were taken down by a vicious, but short lived flu. Vomiting, fever, general misery treated with ibuprofen, tylenol, fluids, rest and lots of cartoons. We all survived, but it has had lingering effects.

Since having the flu, Big Dog and Little Dog have both self diagnosed "the coughs" and "the burps". Just last night, after drinking a bit too much milk, Little Dog pleaded with me to carry him down the stairs. "Please mommy, you carry me, I have the throw ups."

Isn't that just the cutest thing ever? Well, ok, probably not. How about the cutest thing ever that involves throw up?

2009, you've got some 'splaning to do.

Dear 2009,
Let me just say how anxiously I awaited your arrival after the suckfest that was 2008. And now, all I can really say is WTF? Really, I don't know why you've chosen to start off with such, um, shall we say, resoundingly annoying beginning. All I hope is that you change your ways or so help me god I'll be inventing a time machine to transport myself back a few years. (Note to self: time machine might be awesome regardless.)

Why am I complaining? I mean nothing really bad has happened. Just minor stuff, but all front loaded like this, I can't help but wonder if the year is going to be a crapapalooza. Just for fun, and because I'm keeping track, let's list the wrongs, shall we?

1. New Year's is heralded in by a puking toddler. Not only is my child sick, but I get to be covered in vomit in the middle of the night.

2. Dishwasher decided that now is a good time to quit working. I manage to schedule a repair person for the very next morning, only to have them cancel in the morning because one of their technicians called in sick.

3. Vacuum cleaner decides that the dishwahser's labor strike seems like a good idea and also quits working. Have I mentioned that both of these coincide with the first dinner party I've had in ages. Yeah, thanks modern conveniences, you get me hooked and then back out.

4. Big Dog gets sick. Seems like the vomiting Little Dog christened me with on New Year's is making it's way through the family. Big Dog has been sick all day and Mr. Dog is now feeling a bit queasy. He offered to puke on me to complete the circle, but I declined.

5. Snow. More f'ing snow. Seriously, I've had enough snow to last at least a year. Probably even more than a year if I'm completely honest.

All I'm saying is that this stuff sucks. I'm going back to work tomorrow (if the snow permits) and I just want to say I've had enough. How 'bout we agree that you, 2009, quit harassing me, and I'll work on my shitty attitude? What you say? Deal?

Sincerely,
Laura (who isn't feeling all that stellar right now either, but I'm refusing to get sick.)

Happy flu year!

Or is that happy spew year? Or happy waking up at 3 am to the sound of your younger son puking in your hair year? Yeah, whatever it it, so far it isn't nice.

I was going to post about our tamale making extravaganza, but that's going to have to wait. Mr. Dog and I stayed up too late ringing in the new year. The tamales took just about forever to cook, while we waited we celebrated the new year in our own special ways. He surfed the web, I watched reruns of Law and Order. It was pretty much perfect.

Unfortunately, shortly after we went to bed, Little Dog joined us and not long after that the puking began and has not yet stopped. I'm hoping this isn't some kind of omen for the new year. Right after midnight, Mr. Dog burned his finger on an under cabinet kitchen light, said it sizzled. Then a sick child in the middle of the night, not looking good 2009. But we'll be eating our cornbread, blackeyed peas and greens today. And lentils for an extra boost, I'm not taking any chances.