Because it's the Monday after Thanksgiving, which technically makes it part of the Christmas season even though I refuse to decorate my house for Christmas before the calendar actually says December, and because IDAWANNA get back into a school routine because it means waking up at 6:48 a.m. (well, 6:30, but the snooze button and I are bestest friends at 6:30 a.m.), I'm going to rehash my holiday weekend for you.
Thanksgiving was fantastic. The associated colds sucked. M2 came down with it first, a few days before the actual holiday. *I* thought it was just allergies at first and wondered why the blinking Zyrtec wasn't working like it ALWAYS HAS. Derh. You'd think I'd be smart enough by now to be able to discern the difference between allergies and Death by Virus, but no. Anyway, by Thanksgiving Day, she was wheezing and coughing and hacking so much that when we got to my dad's house, I gave her a puff of M1's inhaler and felt horribly guilty when that helped the coughing fit. I then promised her a breathing treatment with the nebulizer when we got back home. I could do this because I have a stash of albuterol that I keep on hand for these things, mostly because M2 has already had two bouts with pneumonia in her itty-bitty life and I really don't need to deal with Round Three. Plus, the pediatrician must have a code for "in bulk" when she prescribes it because the boxes are humongous.
Anyway, I gave M2 round-the-clock treatments for the first 24 hours (round-the-clock meaning that I told her if she woke up coughing to come get me, which meant that she arrived in my room at 4:30 a.m. on Black Friday, which is an even more ungodly hour than 6:30, which is the reason I was parked in my bed sound asleep rather than fighting the galloping hordes for deals on stuff I didn't want or need anyway. But if I had wanted to go shopping, M1 beat M2 to the punch and had poked me at 4 a.m. asking for a sinus rinse, and I told him that I didn't run a 24-hour facility and to go back to bed and that his sinuses would wait till there was daylight and coffee). After the first 24 hours, she started hacking up the good stuff, which I know you want to know, and now she gets excited whenever she starts coughing because she wants to know what color of the rainbow the phlegm will be this time. Her favorite answer so far has been green.
Which all sounds well and good and happy until *I* came down with The Crud, too, which meant that on Saturday when M2 and I were snuggled on the couch under a huge red and green bedset-in-a-bag comforter that we've had for ages and I suggested that we go take a nap in my room instead, and she agreed, that *I* fell asleep and didn't wake up till about 3 p.m. when my bladder gave the warning twinge. Oops. I felt like poo for a good chunk of that day and the next, and now I sound somewhere between Joan Rivers and a frog (is there a difference?), but hey, it's progress.
Oz was a very good husband all week. He humored me, mostly. He hung the wallpaper in the bedroom when it came in (so short of wall art, the bedroom is officially done). He watched the kids and fed them and entertained them when I did my sleep thing. He put up the last of the outdoor Christmas lights so they're ready to go on Wednesday. He even went to his mama's house and helped his brothers hang a garage door. So when he went to Sam's Club for creamer and cat litter for me on Sunday morning and saw The Perfect Christmas/Birthday gift that he's Always Wanted (and it was $81 cheaper than the cheapest price he'd seen all weekend), I let him buy it. And set it up, even though it's not even December yet and Christmas isn't for another 26 days and his birthday isn't for another month-ish after that.
We now have surround sound. It's been highly entertaining. Cats + surround sound = Hilarity Unsurpassed. I put on "Hot Fuzz" because I knew it'd make the subwoofer happy, and when you have a subwoofer on a wooden subfloor, the floor kinda shakes a little. Not as much as in an earthquake, but still. There's a rumble. And when the rumble is accompanied by sirens screaming round and round the room, cats awaken. They sit up straight and their eyes get black, and they become quite alarmed. Some of them will actually go and look out the window and wonder where the H-E-double-hockey-sticks that sound is coming from. Others will sit in front of the speakers and stare at them.
Just like the cold virus, this newness shall pass, but as I sit here trying to avoid the four loads of laundry that four people can generate in three days and sip my raspberry tea with extra raspberry syrup and ignore the boy who is having a horrible rant about having to WRITE, heaven forbid, it's the best I've got.
Hope everyone had a great holiday!