'Tis The Season

While most people's thoughts this time of year turn to last minute gift shopping and festive recipes, we in The Nix Family are consumed by high fevers, wicked-breath inducing congestion, barf and sleepless nights.

It all began with a call from Holden's daycare Tuesday informing me that Holden is a very sick child and I must come fetch him. At that time, I was half-way through the grocery store with Riley, who was about due to eat. Right. Step up the shopping, rush home with a crying baby, feed him and off to get a very sad looking Holden. That feeding was pretty much the last time Riley's received some of that real good one-on-one attention infants are due. He's lucky if he gets fed and changed lately, what with the work Holden's mystery illness has brought on us.

For the last two days, we've thrown the rules out the window. Sleep in our bed? Sure. Another night? Why not. Milk all day and no food? OK. Five hours of television a day, with four of those hours being Dora? What the hay. It's hard though, being torn between being our usual hard asses and wanting to cuddle, cuddle, cuddle for hours straight, holding my ailing baby who seems so confused by this hot-cold-hot-cold existence he now lives in. Even now, on our third night of this disease, he is, as I write this, crying, "I want my mommy," for the sixth or so time since he went to bed two hours ago. I paused there, to debate with Kevin the pros and cons of going to him or letting him continue to cry. Yes, it's getting louder and sadder and has turned into, "I'm cold." Kevin reluctantly responds.

What's also hard about this is that, for hours at a time, he seems like his normal Holdenself, not sick in anyway. He cheerfully jabbers on, narrating our day, like all is well. And then he turns. His temperature shoots to 103 and his mood plunges in equal denominations.

From Holden's room right now: "Rub my back!" "Ssshhhh." "I want to cuddle." "(unintelligible murmurs)." "I want to hold you." "Sssshhhh."

The timing of all this couldn't be worse. Last night was his little show at daycare where, I was told when I picked him up Tuesday, he was to be the star with a solo performance of "The Star Spangled Banner." I cannot ever remember feeling more disappointed than I did about missing that show. You only get one shot at seeing your 2-year-old put on a winter concert.

Also, on a more selfish front, this was to be my last week of solo maternity leave. Kevin and Holden are both off next week and we have 10 days of nonstop family togetherness before I return to work and Riley starts daycare with Holden. I was looking forward to these last couple days alone with Riley - gobbling up his sweet babyness, storing it in my cheeks for the long, hard days of work ahead. Instead, I've guiltily abandoned him to lay by himself batting at his toys or watching his mobile while I tend to Holden's never-ending list of needs.

Yeah, this illness is a jip.