Surviving the flu

I guess one would expect the obligatory Christmas cheer post, and fair enough, but unfortunately, along with the presents, Santa left us with one hell of a nasty flu bug. Someone must have ticked him off, it may have been me, and after I left him cookies, too! So, Christmas eve was spent on the couch and Christmas dinner consisted of chicken broth and ginger ale. We were kind of bummed to be sick on Christmas but since we had opened our presents early anyhow, we decided to spend the time watching Disney movies and getting better. I was super thankful that my house was well stocked since there was no way I could get out for groceries. I put most of the goodies away since they held little appeal for our ailing tummies. When I did get out on boxing day, I went at 3 p.m. after all the madness and stuck to a list. I had a very sick little boy with me and the meds only last for so long. I bought; a case of ginger ale, (I swear that stuff will sustain me through anything) facial tissues, jello, applesauce, apple juice, bread for toast (in case we could stomach it) chicken broth, mr. noodles, can soup (chicken noodle) sanitizing wipes and a pharmacy some medicines. And of course, like every time I go to Walmart, no matter what I end up putting in the cart, it never costs less than one hundred dollars. It's weird, actually. Not your typical boxing day deal shopping, no way I had the energy for that!

We hunkered down for another day until I noticed my son started turning into in an old man. He started blaring Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and The Avengers, ignoring me on his way to the bathroom, and shouting at me to, "Speak up!" then acting annoyed when I apparently wasn't loud enough for him. He was deaf as a stone. That's when I knew he had an ear infection for sure. He's had so many, and he felt so rotten, I guess he just didn't complain, but once the doc looked into his ears, he all but jumped back in surprise, confirming what I already knew. Ears as red as tomatoes inside and nothing for it but antibiotics.

So, after three days, my darling little boy has bounced back, while I, still weak as a kitten, must tend to his returning appetite and protest weakly to his skateboarding in the living room. Please, no skateboarding in the house, honey. He's still ignoring me, but now I know he can hear me! Darn you kid and your resiliency!

Oh what the hell, do an Ollie for all I care, Mommy needs a nap.

How sweet it is.

 I just love when I can get the time to make treats with my boy. He is growing up so fast that I know I need to enjoy these moments while I have them.

He is starting to question The Guy in The Red Suit, (Mom, I saw that he had a mustache under his mustache...) and honestly, I'd be worried if he didn't begin to question the conspiracy we adults have all been running by this age, but he still gets that excited sound, (I call it his tea kettle sound, because it's all, eeee!)  when he talks about him and his homeland The North Pole. I guess it all comes down to erring on the side of caution. You have to believe for the magic to work. My son is, thankfully, willing to suspend his belief for the time being, against his better judgement and that pesky opposing evidence to the contrary.

So, for another year, at least, the magic is strong. I wonder how it will be when there is no more pretense of St. Nick. With no siblings to carry on the fib, will we forget all about him, or continue with the grand charade?

As for myself, I don't think I have ever had a Christmas where I didn't leave the cookies out, plus carrots for the reindeer, and I hope I never do have one like that!  I guess a part of me remembers how it felt when there was so much possibility and wonder in the world. When you don't believe in any dreams anymore, it is a very dreary existence after all. We all have our own version of the North Pole in our heads, mine is a very warm and comforting place to go in the depths of winter. I wouldn't give it up for anything.

So, here is to whimsy, fantasy, dreams and imagination. May they always stay strong in the hearts of those I love, not just at Christmas, but every day of the year.