The Holiday

I'd say as holiday weekends go, it was a mixed bag. It started off with bang. Saturday we grilled out with some good friends, and it was one of those meals that all really came together. Nothing fancy, just some hot dogs, burgers and sides, but it was just all really good. Then we headed to the matinee of Night At The Museum 2. It wasn't the best movie I've ever seen, but it wasn't the worst either. And the kids enjoyed it, so that made it all worth while.


Unfortunately, around 2:00am, Little One woke me up with those dreaded words: "I feel sick". And oh was she sick. Every half hour for the next 8 hours. At first, I thought she had just had too much to eat, since she devoured a huge meal and then an assortment of every dessert we had, including brownies, cookies and ice cream. But it soon became clear that it was some sort of stomach virus. It's one of those times when you wish you could have it yourself instead. Little One is tough as nails, but the stomach virus knocks her out. She looked at me about 5:30 in the morning and declared "I think I need to die" in her little dramatic way (as anyone who has ever been in the throws of it has declared). Big Sister is now reading and panicking that I am going to reveal her worst story...but I wouldn't dare.


Little One is a lovely patient. Every half hour, she would tap me in bed and say, "Again." We would head to the bathroom where she would let me put her hair into a little pony tail before she knelt down. When she finished, we would clean her up and head back to bed. Now this is the complete opposite of The Boy, who in the same situation, comes and gets me and announces "I threw up." Not only does he never make it to the bathroom, he rarely leaves the bed. Even if I leave the bucket by the bed, he has no luck...and neither do I...



The next day was a long one, as Little One was weak, tired and grumpy...and so was I . But we made it through the day and we also saw every episode of Hannah Montanna ever filmed. At the end of the day, she brought me a little hand-written note that said the following:



Dear Mommy,



I love you. You watched over me threw the night. You are a loving person.



I can't even read it without crying. I put her to bed and she said she felt better, but still weak and dizzy. When I got downstairs and got ready to get into my own bed, her little words went round and round in my mind. I kept thinking about her waking up sick again and trying to maneuver down the 18 stairs to get to me. So I did what I had to. I slept with her again.



The next morning, the stomach virus had subsided, but it had been replaced by a cold and cough. But this was somehow better, and spirits were lifted. The Husband was kind enough to make pancakes, which always starts the day off well. The rest of the day was low key since we still had a recovering Little One, but we did go to the Minor League Baseball game. It was a beautiful evening for baseball, and Little One was excited because they showed her sweet little face on the Big Screen. The Boy got a pack of baseball cards to add to the 6 million that he and dad have at home. All in all.... a good day.



As I said last week, this is the last week of school. Writer's Forum, field trip to the dairy farm, field trip to go gold mining, Field Day at school and Honors Day...a busy week for the younger ones. Meanwhile, Big Sister feels I have been neglecting her in the blog, so a day will be devoted to her. And amazingly enough, Sister 2, who we will call Rebel Without A Cause, has mentioned that she might actually like to be mentioned...this after weeks of declaring that she was not to be....mentioned. So, I will contemplate how to introduce The Rebel....



So until tomorrow, when it's Tuesday already and summer vacation is so close I can touch it...