Well, it wasn't exactly the day I envisioned a week or so ago. So much for the freedom I have yearned for since June 6th. Christopher seemed fine this morning. With the exception of his fever you'd never have known he was ill. I let him into my bed where he's been ever since. He was quite cute this morning. Telling me how happy he was to not be at school and to have me to himself. He wished he was an only child. For about an hour. And then he started to really feel like crud. I left him briefly (with his OK) to pick Alexander up from preschool. He wanted no part of getting out of the bed or into the car. I left him with the phone, remote control, gingerale and the comfort of my own bed.

When I came home he was as I had hoped he would be. Sound asleep. He woke up shortly thereafter no better off than when I had left him. I gave him some more Motrin. It seemed not to help at all. I spent the next couple of hours juggling a sick little boy and a very needy little boy. Alexander made a playhouse from a moving box. It's a work in progress. We watched TV and had a snack. I also ran upstairs several times to check on Christopher, refresh his ice packs and comfort him.

Luckily Dad came home early and I escaped long enough to run out to grab more Motrin, milk, bread and cold cuts from the bakery. Last stop before getting Rebecca was Starbucks. Our supply had run out and I would not be caught without my morning coffee, as overtired and drained as I am. There I ran into my friend Julie who had just ordered herself a grande PSL. How maginificent it looked! But I refrained. I did not order one. I do not want my PSL on the run. I do not want it in haste. I want to savor it. Every single drop of it. Every single drop of it. And so I will wait. And this is not something I do readily at all. Waiting is not me. But this time I will. Maybe I will have my PSL on Friday. Perhaps I will have to wait until Monday. Regardless I intend to enjoy every single solitary minute of it. There will be no rushing. There will be no interuptions. There will be no children whining, tugging or screaming at me. There will be nothing but calm and time...

Then I came home.

And the madness ensued. And a sick child still needed me. And a four year old who was particularly needy and loud tonight. And a daughter who could not figure out what her teacher meant in the question "Where does Money Come From?" I thought trees was a good answer. She did not. After a phone call to a class mate we figured out that the answer might have been the Mint. We'll know tomorrow. That was a harrowing experience. And then I had to make dinner. Just sandwiches tonight.

And then my head started to pound. I worried and panicked and gobbled down three Motrin and a Diet Coke. I can't get sick. Not me! What will I do? I panicked some more as I heard my 8 year old whimpering from pain and discomfort. So then I do what any sane person who might very well be incapacitated might do. I brought out the vacuum. Seriously!

The downstairs and upstairs -- save for my bedroom (and bathroom ) where my little boy lies -- is now clean. I have some food in the house. And ginger ale. I am free to get sick now! But first I'll have myself a glass of wine!

Cheers... and wish me luck by the way!

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Getting ready for obligatory Back to School pictures...