Cold and crisp with snow on the ground I feel the magic of Christmas in my bones. The smell of a special dinner wafts through the house.... I wish holiday music was on. Instead the sound of Marge Simpson screeches in my brain. Isaac is out with the oldest and youngest child visiting his family. I am home nursing the middle two as they take turns vomiting. Merry Christmas!
I knew that Tay was sick when he came to me pale and forlorn asking, "Why is this happening to me?" Maya, usually full of energy and spunk, fell asleep on the couch at 2 pm. Ara gave it to them. She was sick two nights ago - same symptoms. I am calling it the 20 minute virus. Vomiting is 20 minutes apart.... consistently. Ara threw up all night at 20 minute intervals. I stop counting after 21 times.....I figure she topped out at thirty or so. The doctor examined her and said... viral. Clear liquids. I thought to myself, "I drove here at nap time, paid you how much to have you tell me keep doing what you're doing?"!!!!!"
Why am I writing about vomit? Why not? It is my life right now. Yet, in spite of the sickness I am reflecting on the meaning of Christmas. The fact that a baby was born, given to us as a sacrifice, born to die so that I can live. The reality of that promise makes the trials that I face fade into the distance. So, peace pervades and a sense of togetherness. Merry Christmas to all and to a good night (hopefully)
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