Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Our Blah Humbug Christmas Year

Perhaps it had been our unseasonably warm weather.  Perhaps it had been all the writing with the book and NaNoWriMo and having something that was all my own to focus on.  Perhaps it was the intense heaviness and grief I was carrying about the Sandy Hook tragedy.  Perhaps it was dealing with the all-too-expected-yet-still-unpleasant-and-difficult-to-handle emotional dysregulation of Miles and Keenan caused by the efficient and brutal succession of Thanksgiving/St. Nick/Keenan's birthday/impending holiday gifts.  Perhaps it was all the stress in handling my extended family, many of whom are dealing with personal difficulties of their own extenuating life circumstances.

Whatever the causes, I can honestly say that I had a very, very difficult time getting into the holiday spirit this year.


A public school snow day and 8 inches of the fluffy white stuff falling in a huge storm helped chip away at those Blah Humbug feelings of mine last Thursday.   The kids and I frosted 6 dozen cut out cookies, listened to holiday music, played in the snow, drank hot chocolate, and watched a Christmas movie.

I went to bed happy, knowing that Christmas would indeed here- both in my mindset and in days to come.

* Insert ominous sound here *


I've been flat out sick in bed since Friday.  4 days of fevers up to 103.5 degrees.  Achiness.  Chills that were indescribable.  Crazy dizzy and monster headaches.  And now a cough that has taken over everything else.  No appetite whatsoever.

I have had zero desire to read, knit, watch tv, nada.   I have just shivered and hacked up bits of lung in bed, feeling. . . sick.

By Sunday, Hatfield had come down with what I have, and just as severe.  By Monday morning, it was apparent that Paloma had become infected as well.

The Mister and the boys went off to my Mom's for the family Christmas Eve celebration, and the girls and I stayed home, bundled up in my bed, too sick to eat, too tired to care, and too exhausted to focus on the movie the Mister rented for us.

The only silver lining in it all were that the girls were so sick they couldn't even really feel upset that they were missing Christmas Eve.

I've been up a bit here and now, to help the Mister put name tags on Santa gifts, and to watch the kids open their presents.  Otherwise, he's been the Man in Charge, and I've been the Mom in Bed.

I'm not really sure what the purpose of this post is, or if there is some happy and positive message to end with.  But I guess what I'm trying to do is just document this life.  Give my kids something to look back on and know that they were little once, that they were loved, that they have a story.

And that this year, 2012, their Christmas story is that Mom and Hattie and Paloma were sick in bed. 

That Dad persevered and kept everyone alive- watering and feeding the crew- comforting and medicating and spoiling the sickies-- throwing in a load of laundry or ten - assembling a dozen new toys-  ringleading the Cirque d' Cruz.  

That the Grande Christmas Feast consisted of Dad throwing in a few frozen pizzas and setting out the two leftover platters of cookies while announcing "pizza and ALL the cookies that you can or want to eat!" 

That Christmas Day which was heralded in with a chorus of coughing and Paloma's squeal of joy that she can now live her dream and dine at The Chocolate Fountain Restaurant because she got a gift card to The Golden Corral.




And looking back at it, a day later, you know, beyond the whole intensely sick thing, it wasn't a bad Christmas Day at all, after all.



Merry, Merry Christmas, from Our Family to Yours!


1 comment:

Nobody said...

I'm so sorry you were so sick. Not exactly the way you want to make Christmas memories. I love your family room all decked out for the holidays. Love ya!