...and I need antibiotics for the green gunk that's oozing out of my sinuses as well as the nagging pain in my right ear. Emma is on oral steroids for croup, and Nicky spent an entire night coughing on my chest.
I have already spent a week accumulating and arranging a various assortment of scarlet velvety bows, fir tree clippings, sparkly knick knacks, and twinkly lights. But only after spending 20 minutes in a waiting room full of coughing, snot-nosed kids did it start to feel like Christmas people. Truly. Aaah...the warmth of the season as only the barking sound of a 3 year-old's croupy cough can convey.
Since the birth of my daughter 3 years ago, my little family has been sick every single Christmas season. Last year's bout with a veritable cornucopia of viruses had us in and out of the pediatrician's office 9 times in one month. It got so that I was tempted to ask if they had something equivalent to frequent flier miles. This year we've only been in and out twice, knock on wood. But I've learned not to get my hopes up until January has come and gone, and we are out of this dreadful season of couped up friends and family, sharing meals, gifts, snot, and germs.
And so, in this, the first of my twelve posts leading up to Christmas, I pay homage to you Parainfluenza virus for visiting my humble home and spreading your holiday cheer....particularly in the wee morning hours as you entice me from my bed and onto the sofa for several hours of spasmodic coughing with one or both of my children. Because of you, I now sport the sleep-deprived, viral-laden glow of the Christmas season. Merry, merry.