Thursday, December 27, 2012

A Christmas Story

The Saturday before Christmas started out just like any other.  It was absolutely nuts in the salon with everyone wanting haircuts and nails done before the big day.  Luckily, I was not so busy that I couldn’t stop for a  bathroom laugh, but it happens.  As I was making clients look their best for Santa, I started to notice a little tingle in my chest, a little burn if you will, and thought to myself, “Oh great, probably getting bronchitis or something. Ugh.”  But the show must go on, so I finished up at work and headed home that afternoon to a list of stuff that needed to be done.
First on the list was wrapping all the gifts that we bought for the family we adopted. We had to drop the presents off that 5pm evening and everything still needed wrapped. So, I turned on the Matrix (I know, this movie just screams Christmas), sat in the middle of my living room floor and wrapped presents while my Hubby and kids slept all the while contemplating if I would’ve taken the blue pill or the red pill. (I’m thinking ignorance is bliss.)  I should have known I was in trouble when this activity started making me sweat, but hey, I had a sweater on and I was trying to understand all the overly complicated verbage of the Matrix…that’s enough to make anyone sweat, right?

Before long we were on our way to drop off our presents and finish up some very last minute shopping.  We decided to eat at Chile’s and I decided something was really wrong with me when I just couldn’t find anything that sounded good on the menu. I excused myself to go to the bathroom and when I came back, my three year old was sitting by himself in the booth with the “neighbor” couple talking to him.  I walked up and must have had a very panicked look on my face. I asked Christopher where Daddy and Ben were and he informed me that Ben had to “pook”..which means puke in Chris language.  The nice lady talking to him said that she promised to look after him while Adam made a beeline for the bathroom and that it had only been about 30 seconds since they left..thank goodness. Long story short, Ben tossed his cookies all over the bathroom of Chile’s and we got the heck out of Dodge asap. ..A  story we will probably tell at family Christmas get-together’s for the rest of poor Ben’s life…..our family is weird that way. 

Now, Ben wasn’t running a fever and had no other symptoms of illness and proclaimed that he felt just fine. So, I begged my Hubby to please, please, please just let me stop at Sephora for like 5 minutes to grab my last gift and then we could be on our way home. (Que the foreshadowing music) I have my purchase and I am waiting at the door for my Hubby to pick me up when my phone rings. Hubby says, “ I’ll be there in a minute, Ben’s exploding all over the parking lot and while I was pulling him from the car, he got me too.”  EEEWwww…kinda glad I missed that one!  I tell him no problem and step back inside until they picked me up.  After that, there was no passing go, no collecting $200 - we were going home. 

In the middle of all this craziness, I was feeling increasingly worse, but I had a sick kid to take care of so I pushed it to the back of my mind and tried to help my little guy as much as possible.  The big turning point was when I woke up in the night to help him out while he got sick once again and I told my Hubby that I thought something was wrong with the furnace.  I was freezing a couldn’t quit shaking...and as you’ve already guessed there was nothing wrong with the furnace.

I proceeded to get worse and worse over the next 24 hours or so and my poor Hubby got a real good glimpse of what single Dad life is really like, the good part being that our son was bouncing back really quickly.  On Christmas Eve, he hauled me to the doctor and I was threatened with a one way trip to the ER and an IV, which I graciously refused and promised to go home and try as hard as I could to push the fluids. I had the flu and was the sickest I have probably ever been in my life. Consequently Christmas was cancelled at the Winland’s.  Santa still came, but other than that, we did nothing. I have to give my Hubby all the credit for getting everything ready while I watched from a horizontal position.

I felt horrible laying there thinking about everything my kids were missing.  They didn’t get to go to Nana’s house for Christmas Eve or eat their normal big Christmas breakfast that I prepare, and I am pretty sure Christmas dinner included Doritos. It wasn’t what Christmas is normally like at our house at all.  I was broken hearted.

I was laying in my bed while my Hubby got the boys ready for bed that night, listening to them chattering about everything, when they ambushed my bedroom. They both climbed up on my bed and sprawled across my chest, with little chubby cheeks and sweet smiles. “We love you Mommy!” they declared and I told them I loved them too. Then my Hubby said, “Go ahead, tell her what you guys just told me.” In unison they both looked up with big smiles and said,”This was the BEST Christmas EVER!!!”

My eyes kind of welled just little and after they were tucked snug in their beds, my Hubby came back in the room and said, “See, you were so worried, but to a 6 year old and 3 year, just staying in your p.j.’s all day and playing with all your cool new stuff is the best thing in the world.” He then kissed my head and left the room.

I don’t think God gave met he flu for Christmas, but I’m pretty sure he used it to teach me a lesson. It doesn’t really matter if you eat the same traditional breakfast or do all the traditional things that you do.  Don’t get me wrong, tradition is wonderful and creates some great memories, but sometimes simple is best. Sometimes quiet is good. And maybe, just maybe, sometimes staying in your p.j.’s with your loved ones, watching movies, playing all day and eating Doritos can be the best Christmas ever.

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