The day before we left for Michigan Kate hugged me tightly and then threw up all over my feet. Apparently she was not feeling well, and she then passed that feeling on to her sister. Our favorite summer holiday started on a bit of a "sour" note.
We leave soon for a short end of summer getaway and guess who is sprawled in bed, head in a bowl, body full of fever? It's Mary's turn to kick off this vacation but if history has taught us anything she won't be alone for long.
Jack calls me paranoid and while I'd really like to agree, it's hard to call my fears baseless and excessive; our children get sick at almost every inopportune moment presented.
Kate spent two weeks this summer at what Jack and I called smart camp: a three hour per day gathering of six and seven year old children wearing glasses. I hesitated, the sessions she wanted ran in the weeks immediately before we left for Michigan. Eeek, exposure to that many children right before vacation, never a good idea, but I turned off the crazy voice in my head and enrolled her. See above.
This past week we have had three events well stocked with germy children: two birthday parties and on Sunday, 30 people, including children, at our home for an end of summer soiree. The timing concerned me, so close to vacation, but our calendars were full and surely this madness would not strike twice in one short summer. See above.
There is a certain empty validation in finding that I am not paranoid but rather, scarily accurate in my illness forecasting. Most regrettably we are raising social girls who truly delight in the presence of other children. They actually look forward to school and the sharing of their days with so many small germ carriers. It's torture, allowing them this childhood access to friends, but option B, sending them to school in togas fashioned from Lysol Germ Killing Wipes seems extreme, but not completely unthinkable.
We leave soon for a short end of summer getaway and guess who is sprawled in bed, head in a bowl, body full of fever? It's Mary's turn to kick off this vacation but if history has taught us anything she won't be alone for long.
Jack calls me paranoid and while I'd really like to agree, it's hard to call my fears baseless and excessive; our children get sick at almost every inopportune moment presented.
Kate spent two weeks this summer at what Jack and I called smart camp: a three hour per day gathering of six and seven year old children wearing glasses. I hesitated, the sessions she wanted ran in the weeks immediately before we left for Michigan. Eeek, exposure to that many children right before vacation, never a good idea, but I turned off the crazy voice in my head and enrolled her. See above.
This past week we have had three events well stocked with germy children: two birthday parties and on Sunday, 30 people, including children, at our home for an end of summer soiree. The timing concerned me, so close to vacation, but our calendars were full and surely this madness would not strike twice in one short summer. See above.
There is a certain empty validation in finding that I am not paranoid but rather, scarily accurate in my illness forecasting. Most regrettably we are raising social girls who truly delight in the presence of other children. They actually look forward to school and the sharing of their days with so many small germ carriers. It's torture, allowing them this childhood access to friends, but option B, sending them to school in togas fashioned from Lysol Germ Killing Wipes seems extreme, but not completely unthinkable.
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