Thanksgiving, No Longer Thankful

Ahh, it's been a weekend--and not the kind of wonderful, off-to-get-a-Christmas-tree, deck the halls kind of weekend I had hoped for either. It started off well enough with a lovely, relaxed, cooking-light Thanksgiving day (we had dinner at the house of some friends) and rapidly went downhill from there...

Thanksgiving night J took a fall at our friends' house and it looked like she might have sprained or broken her little toe. Nothing to do about it but wait for it to get better. Friday morning she woke with a cold and a fever, and between the foot and the cold, she stayed in bed or on the couch for the day. Saturday morning I woke to the remembrance that strep throat has been romping through J's class. When she still had a fever and a bad sore throat and couldn't put any weight on her foot, we decided to take her for medical help. At 11:10 am I called her doctor's office to see if their service had a clinic recommendation and was surprised to get not only a warm body on the line but also the news that if we could be at the office by 11:30 they would see us there as they're open till 12:00 on Saturday. We dressed, we raced, we made it. Then we waited. And waited.

We finally saw a nurse practitioner who confirmed that J did have strep throat and who further said that she might have a fracture in the growth plate in her foot so we had to go in for x-rays. Off we went to Eggleston to wait some more. At 3:00 we got the welcome news that J did not have a broken foot (so no cast and no crutches). As we happily headed down the hall of the hospital--visions of Christmas-tree-shopping dancing in my head--J gave me one frantic look and threw up all over her father (who was carrying her). Oh boy. Got home and found out that a stomach bug had ravaged the house of the friends we had had Thanksgiving dinner with, and Mom and both kids were throwing up all Friday.

J showing us the contents of her stomach lasted through late evening, by which time I was starting to feel queasy too. Today J and I are both laid low, though we have so far mostly managed to keep down what has gone down. I now drag myself back to bed--after a little chicken noodle soup provided by the very patient and nurturing (and still healthy) spouse. Happy Holidays everyone!

What Is Your Name Fairy?

I think seven is the perfect age. Of course I thought four was the perfect age too, but I was wrong. It's seven. The blossoming reasoning power combined with the perpetual wonder and belief in magic of the seven year-old make all the tired, wretched, frustrating trivialities of the adult day melt away.

Last night, just out of the shower after a long two hours at her school's holiday artist market, Jessie asked if she could please, please do something before bed. When I asked what, she solemnly told me that Ethan had told her that if you write "What is your name, fairy?" on a piece of paper and put it out in your yard with some crumbled bread, a fairy will come in the night and write her name and leave you a crystal. She added that you could do this the first time any night, but on subsequent times you had to do it on the night of the full moon...

I believe the fairy did write her name, but the rain washed it away. J will have to try again on December 12. Her father and I will have to stock up on crystals.

262 Days... And Counting

Got the invitation for my 30th year high school reunion this morning, RSVP'd, and am heading for the treadmill. Guess there's no longer any doubt that I am an average American woman over the age of 40.

Dinner on Sunday...

I just couldn't break my streak today. Time for dinner and I decided to go for the easy out of the ballpark hit of fish sticks, tater tots, french fries and canned spinach. My mother-in-law called as I was preparing my culinary masterpiece and she joked (having read my blog today) that she had better let me get off the phone so I didn't burn the dinner. Mwah hah hah hah. How could I burn fish sticks?!? I used a guaranteed accurate timer, and turned it off the second it went off. I also turned off the oven. And then I went on with microwaving spinach, directing the J to set the table, and various other things... and I forgot to take the dinner out of the oven for several more crispy minutes.

The highlight of dinner came when J picked up her first fish stick, turned it over, looked at the black part and said "This looks like asphalt." She was quick to add that she was sure it didn't taste like asphalt, but she later asked if she had to eat the black part because she didn't like it...

All I can say is I am saved again by the white wine. Dave, come home to me! How many hours left till CNN lets him go? 63?

My Favorite Day

It's my favorite day of the year, the day when I get an extra hour of sleep on a Sunday morning. Sadly my spouse had to head off to work (only two more days till the election!) so I was snuggling in alone. It's a good day for someone else too--Happy Birthday Stacy! (see you for champagne on Tuesday :-).

My mother is still visiting so Dave bought a tube of orange rolls for us to have fresh hot pastry for breakfast this weekend. Yes, I realize there are some reading this post who do not consider pastry from a tube to be either pastry or fresh even when hot, but it is a delicacy in our household and a special treat. Today I saddled up and moseyed to the kitchen with the J (who always helps her father make the weekend morning orange rolls when we have them) to bake a batch.

As I preheated the oven, got out the baking stone and started to peel open the tube J looked at me dubiously and asked if I was sure I knew how to make them... What does it say about one's perceived cooking abilities when one's child questions one's qualifications to bake tubed pastry?!?

I burned them. They were practically inedible (for the purists in the audience they were more inedible than usual). *Sigh* I can't wait till Dave is back home and reigning in the kitchen. Mom and I had Halloween candy and sauvignon blanc for dinner last night, J had peanut butter and jelly--she had chicken (fingers and fries) for lunch so she had at least one good meal in the day.