If you rub a neti pot, will a genie appear?
I was going to write about my exciting Up North New Year’s Resolutions. I was going to talk about the very Rabbit Hillish way we are befriending the four-legged critters that live around our house. I was also going to tell you about our friends, the Spencer’s, and how they are bringing us farm fresh produce (like Spinach…yes!) all winter long thanks to a new hoop house at Pond Hill Farm.
But instead, you are getting a plea for a witch doctor, secret potion, found-only-in-northern-Michigan-medicinal-herb, or a run-of-the-mill exorcism plan to rid my house of germs. We are in-fested.
It started just before Christmas, with Justin and his sinus infection (that spread to me, and inevitably cancelled our much anticipated Christmas Eve family headlamp snowshoe hike…sigh). Max went down next with a rip-roaring bout of tonsillitis. Now Noah and Lizzie are both puddles of sunken sockets, stuffed noses, pounding heads and high fevers. We have, collectively, been sick for three weeks.
And I have left my house to do the following: doctor appointments, grocery store runs, doctor appointments, drug store stops, and yes, more doctor appointments. If you can imagine the protagonist from The Yellow Wallpaper, and multiply it by a thousand (except I am looking at yellow, cream, tan, and chocolate painted walls….), you can start getting a clear picture of my desperation.
Part of my big resolve for 2009 is to live in the present moment, to be satisfied with the simple; I am trying to be mindful of each time I get to step outside with my children into a sky that swirls white, to be thankful for every bedtime story and dinner I prepare. I even am trying to tell myself the diaper changes and snotty noses are part of the mysterious beauty of raising a family.
But still. 21 days of vomit, green boogers, tears, and insane amounts of laundry are enough to put anyone over the edge, right? And if not, Lizzie’s amazing ability to scoot off into mischief every time I set her down (as in this morning, when she managed to dump a new batch of granola all over the floor in the 13.5 seconds that it took to take Noah another glass of water) has certainly done the trick.
Please understand, we are well versed in the art of sick care. My kids are on a pant load of vitamins, from the dailies to Vitamin D and Omegas. They (begrudgingly) drink chamomile tea and suck down expectorant. They go to bed early. They are obsessed with hand-washing and I am almost convinced that we have drunk our well dry in the last three weeks. And yet, we cannot seem to get better.
When I consulted Max, who is finally sort-of back to his fantastically four self, he said, “one minute mama.”
His feet padded up the stairs and five minutes later he returned, looking like this:
“I will fight those germs right outta this house.”
Just in case Max’s superior crud-busting skills don’t restore peace and justice in our home, I’d be oh-so-grateful for any suggestions. We northerners are way too tough to go down without a fight.
But instead, you are getting a plea for a witch doctor, secret potion, found-only-in-northern-Michigan-medicinal-herb, or a run-of-the-mill exorcism plan to rid my house of germs. We are in-fested.
It started just before Christmas, with Justin and his sinus infection (that spread to me, and inevitably cancelled our much anticipated Christmas Eve family headlamp snowshoe hike…sigh). Max went down next with a rip-roaring bout of tonsillitis. Now Noah and Lizzie are both puddles of sunken sockets, stuffed noses, pounding heads and high fevers. We have, collectively, been sick for three weeks.
And I have left my house to do the following: doctor appointments, grocery store runs, doctor appointments, drug store stops, and yes, more doctor appointments. If you can imagine the protagonist from The Yellow Wallpaper, and multiply it by a thousand (except I am looking at yellow, cream, tan, and chocolate painted walls….), you can start getting a clear picture of my desperation.
Part of my big resolve for 2009 is to live in the present moment, to be satisfied with the simple; I am trying to be mindful of each time I get to step outside with my children into a sky that swirls white, to be thankful for every bedtime story and dinner I prepare. I even am trying to tell myself the diaper changes and snotty noses are part of the mysterious beauty of raising a family.
But still. 21 days of vomit, green boogers, tears, and insane amounts of laundry are enough to put anyone over the edge, right? And if not, Lizzie’s amazing ability to scoot off into mischief every time I set her down (as in this morning, when she managed to dump a new batch of granola all over the floor in the 13.5 seconds that it took to take Noah another glass of water) has certainly done the trick.
Please understand, we are well versed in the art of sick care. My kids are on a pant load of vitamins, from the dailies to Vitamin D and Omegas. They (begrudgingly) drink chamomile tea and suck down expectorant. They go to bed early. They are obsessed with hand-washing and I am almost convinced that we have drunk our well dry in the last three weeks. And yet, we cannot seem to get better.
When I consulted Max, who is finally sort-of back to his fantastically four self, he said, “one minute mama.”
His feet padded up the stairs and five minutes later he returned, looking like this:
“I will fight those germs right outta this house.”
Just in case Max’s superior crud-busting skills don’t restore peace and justice in our home, I’d be oh-so-grateful for any suggestions. We northerners are way too tough to go down without a fight.
7 Comments
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Comment by Erin on January 7, 2009 at 4:33pm -
Your poor sorry lot! Get well and stay well into this new year. And keep posting links at your other place, please, 'cause I love to read your words.
Torch-lit Christmas eve snowshoe? My heart hurts - too bad you didn't make it (or was that sarcsam?)
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Comment by PKS on January 8, 2009 at 8:59am - When the "germ fighter" can't manage to rid the house of the germs drastic measures might be in order. Call your mother, plan a trip somewhere the sun shines and fruit with vitamin C has a juicy sweet and oh so fresh flavor! Take the headlamps. Instead of snowshoeing take a nighttime walk on the beach looking for crabs. Hum, can you smell the suntan lotion?
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Comment by Darren King on January 11, 2009 at 3:31pm - Well, if I were a germ in your house, I'd sure leave...because in that outfit, your son can do whatever a spider can! ;)
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Comment by Jay Edwards on January 14, 2009 at 11:15am - Need to pack up the fam and head to NC. Alway got a place at the beach for ya.
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Comment by RooJournals on January 15, 2009 at 12:48am - Hoping a week after this post that your family is on the mend. If not, do what I do after being sick for what seems like an eternity: Pretend you're well. Shower, get dressed, get the kids dressed, and try to do something you would normally do when you're feeling good. This usually works great for about an hour. By the time I get myself and one kid dressed while simultaneously fighting germs, I'm usually ready for a long nap. But there's something about the pretending that actually makes me feel better — even if it's just for a little while.
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Comment by Sus on January 15, 2009 at 10:00pm - Just concocting a plan as cool as a Christmas Eve family headlamp snowshoe hike sounds like enough effort to put me out for a few weeks. I'm so SORRY you were all so sick. Sorry, sorry, sorry. (I'm into triplicate today.) Here's what I like when I can't otherwise breathe: spicy Mexican tortilla soup. The spice helps. (for next time)
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I so feel for you and love your ability to handle this all.