Making Lemons

Meeting my new employee’s pet dragon

 

We battled the mysterious illnesses of mysteriosity this weekend.  On Friday (a no-preschool day for some reason), Charles didn’t feel well.  Usually, when he says he doesn’t feel well, what he means is “I want to watch Wild Kratts.”  But this time, despite me allowing him to watch an hour of Wild Kratts while I took a nap with Jamie, he still wasn’t feeling all that great.  He threw a tantrum about wanting to watch more TV and then, suddenly, dropped off to sleep:

 

 

This is the kid who doesn’t nap, so I knew he was not faking illness.  Jamie and I spent the time we had without Charles in the backyard, playing in the rain and puddles. 

 

 

He consistently makes a “Beep… Beep… Beep” sound whenever his toys back up.  I die laughing. 

 

On Saturday, everyone was fine, so we did what we usually do: went to Baby Boot Camp, played around the house, and tried not to incur major injury.  Well, I tried not to let major injuries happen.  The kids, on the other hand, tried to kill each other.

 

Okay, perhaps not literally, but their play became more and more rough as the day went on.  I had a revelation late in the afternoon, after drying tears and banishing children to timeouts yet again, that these two spend almost every waking moment (and their sleeping moments, for that matter) together.  They are in the same class at preschool.  They go everywhere together with me.  They play together at home and in the yard.  They can’t get away from each other!  What they need is a break from each other before they do actually get hurt.

 

Which might, or might not, have happened.  On Saturday evening, Charles pushed Jamie (out of my line of sight) and Jamie came running to me to be comforted.  Then he vomited in my arms.  Then he vomited again on the floor.  Later, he vomited in Tony’s arms, two or maybe three times. 

 

Cause?  Well, I asked Charles how he had pushed Jamie and he said, “in the stomach.”  So maybe there’s that.  Jamie had a hot dog with his mac n cheese lunch on Saturday (don’t judge me – after cooking many, many, many meals, I am running out of ideas and getting lazy when it comes to lunches), which none of the rest of us did.  I threw away the remaining hot dogs to be on the safe side.

 

Or maybe it was a short-lived bug.  I don’t know.  I only know that he took two good naps without fuss this weekend and now seems to be all better.

 

Tony needed a nap, too.  His brain was taxed (!)

 

Again, always, we seem to be in survival mode.  I made some stellar banana-oatmeal muffins and chocolate lava cakes to keep morale up.  As one does.