Sick, Not Sick, Sick, Not Sick

Roughly three weeks ago, EJ got a bad cough and a mild fever. After 48 hours, I called our doctor's office, and managed to get an appointment with our own doctor for the next morning. Of course, when we woke EJ up that day, she seemed fantastic---no lethargy (even at 6:45 a.m.), no fever, no cough, totally bonny and bright.

I almost cancelled the appointment, thinking that it wasn't necessary, but since it is very hard to get in, and since the flu is going around (Have you heard? You haven't? Maybe it's just on the running scroll on every news screen I see.), I figured a check-up wouldn't hurt.

Even though all of my mommy-instincts said, "This kid is a-okay," the doc took a look at her, and within 30 seconds, declared, "Pneumonia."

Wowser.

EJ took her first course of antibiotics like a champ, and by the end of 10 days, the cough was almost gone. That's right, almost.

Unfortunately, it never did completely go away, and it became drier, stronger, and less efficient.

I would not be fooled this time---I made another appointment with the doctor. Mike brought EJ in last Friday morning, much sicker in body and spirit than the first time (although let's be honest, she's a bundle of energy even while coughing her brains out), and we got our result: pneumonia gone, nothing serious, just the dregs of a cold hanging on. Keep her hydrated, but feel free to let her go out into the big, big world for adventures.

Okay. Doctor: 2. Instincts: 0.

With this in mind, we attended a previously scheduled playdate later that day, and didn't hesitate to pack up the kiddo on the weekend for a trip up to Wisconsin to see her Uncle John play some quad rugby. We also let some dear Milwaukee-based friends of ours know that yes, we were officially healthy, and yes, we would be in their neighborhood, and yes, we could come see them and get a peek at their sweet new baby and shower them with the love and cooing and attention that they so richly deserve, especially in their sleep-deprived state. I mean, the doctor told us it would be okay. What could possibly go wrong?

Saturday night, EJ woke up in the middle of the night, coughing and coughing....and coughing and coughing...and coughing and coughing....let's just say, things ramped up considerably. My mom, sweet angel that she is, got up with EJ, and actually went and laid down with her for the bulk of the night (at EJ's request) to help her get some rest. When Mike and I woke up, our throats were fiery and scratchy, and we had that "we didn't sleep at all" feeling that accompanies the beginning of a cold.

We agonized about what to do---skip the rugby tournament or drive to Oconomowoc for the big event---but in the end, EJ was so energetic and ready to go, we decided to give it a go. Photo documentation shows that the kid looks healthy.




If you could have heard her though, the glowing picture of health would have looked more dim. Between the three of us, we were a bundle of burgeoning sickness. We called our friends to cancel the baby visit, because we are not evil germ-spreaders, and headed back home to my folks' place to rest. When we got there, I checked my email, and discovered that the little girl that EJ had played with on Friday afternoon was running a 102 degree fever.

How's that for nutty? EJ was hacking and coughing, but had been declared healthy, while her playmate was completely healthy in appearance, but was moments away from a high fever and big-time illness. I feel like that would qualify for an Alanis Morrisette song.

Fast forward to Tuesday. The kid was better, again. Still a cough, but really, so much better. I sent her to school, because there was (and had been) no fever, there was just a little cough, and frankly, I was no longer able to reliably determine what constituted healthy from sick. I rolled with the doctor's call, and just said, "lingering cold, good enough for school." Mike and I felt generally yucky, but not so terrible that we couldn't keep going.

If there was soundtrack accompanying our life, yesterday (Wednesday) is when the "Dum....dum....dummmmm" moment would happen, that sound-trigger that lets us all know that bad things are about to brew. While EJ woke up healthy enough to go to school, she was just miserable to be around. Grumpy. Gripey. Cranky. Crabby. Crying about everything and nothing all at once.

Maybe I don't know pneumonia from a cold. Maybe I don't know a sick playmate from a healthy one. I do know my kid, though, and I should have known that the shoe...was...going...to...drop. For goodness sake, we even had a tantrum about shoes yesterday---a fall-on-the-floor, dissolve-into-tears tantrum about leaving a pair of sparkly-silver shoes at preschool for the season to be worn when wet and/or snowy boots are taken off---one tantrum among many that made the day feel roughly 487 hours long. My patience was so worn by the time my head hit the pillow, I simply said a prayer of thanksgiving that the day was mercifully done, and fell asleep thinking, "tomorrow will be better."

This morning, our child climbed into bed with me, after Mike had gotten up to start his day (feeling lousy) and I was still trying to rouse myself (feeling less lousy, but really tired). She felt warm. Really warm.

She was warm. 101-degree warm. Fever warm.

Mike very kindly stayed home with her this morning while I went to work for a few hours, but now we are at home, eating chicken soup, taking Tylenol, doing Color Wonder drawings, and watching too much television. Sick, not sick, sick, not sick...I'm getting whiplash, and we are officially not making any more predictions on health for the season.

She Leaves Me Notes: YES

I found this note by the computer this evening after putting EJ to bed. It was written in orange marker---my favorite color---so I can only imagine it was meant for me, since she tends to be pretty deliberate about those kinds of choices, and had roughly eight-bazillion marker colors from which to choose.



There's nothing like a four-year old child preparing the evening before to be awake the next morning before her parents. I think she's hoping that we'll go to that site after she's snoozing and leave it open on the laptop so she won't have to do her normal 6:00 a.m. routine, which involves running to our room to make sure we are still asleep, turning on the laptop, logging in, finding Safari, and typing the URL in herself. Leave a note, save some work. She's nothing if not efficient.

It actually looks more like one of those ballot mock-up flyers to me, the kind that you receive at some legally-prescribed distance away from the entrance of your polling place before voting. "Vote 'YES' on pbskids.org!" When I read it like that, it cracks me up even more---less imperative, more like a written statement of endorsement, just so we all understand her position on this crucial matter. "You can bookmark what you want, but as for me, here's my site of choice...won't you consider it?"

We went to her preschool conference today, and they gave the kind of report that makes parents beam: EJ loves her friends, but is not cliquey (and yes, there is a clique in her school already...sigh). She is open to all kinds of new friends, and invites kids to play with her easily, talks to everyone, etc. While dramatic when upset, she is learning to express herself, and then calms down quickly. She loves to focus in on tasks and projects, and she isn't fidgety and unable to sit still like last year (the topic of every previous conference, and yes, she was only three and being fidgety is part of the job description). The one area on which they said that they are continuing to work with her is fine motor skill---cutting, writing, refining the size and accuracy of letters, doing detailed work. This kind of startled me, because fine motor has always been her strongest suit, even as a baby.

Maybe I should bring this note to school. I'd have to say, "Fine Motor: YES."

Of course, maybe I shouldn't assume this note is for me, and therefore, mine to share. It could have been made in a burst of make-believe play for her new stuffed animal, a small pink pig (she LOVES pink pigs, after all) sent to her in the mail from her Grandma and Grandpa (a.k.a., smart cookies) with her very own name on the package (note to the US Post: if you want to ensure your survival forever, figure out a way for preschoolers to vote, because they would literally storm the capital to keep snail mail arriving addressed "just for them.") She was chattering up a storm to this little beanie baby pig today, telling her the day's schedule, explaining the rules and the things we like to eat for lunch, and generally teaching her the ways of the world chez nous. The best part: she's named the pig, Panana, which is, in my mind, the hilarious linguistic merging of a pig and a banana. It also fits in nicely to Van Halen's "Panama" when you are rambling through the house trying to find the lost pig (who has been lost at least three times in two days of ownership)---singing always helps find lost stuffed animals, it is a universal rule. However she came up with the hog moniker, I have one thing to say:

"Panana, YES."

Desert Surprise

You thought I said, "dessert surprise," didn't you? Usually I would be talking about chocolate, I swear, but not today.

Last week, our family took a short trip to Arizona thanks to my in-laws, who graciously bought us the plane tickets, and Mike's aunt and uncle, who kindly put us up and drove us around and generally acted as amazing hosts. The main impetus for the trip was to visit Mike's great-grandparents, who had not yet met EJ. Having had a similar trip with EJ to Denver before my grandparents passed away (thanks to my parents' generosity), I was happy to have this opportunity, and understood how important it would be for all of us.

In the weeks preceding our trip, when we would speak to our in-laws, they would enthusiastically say how our vacation was coming up soon, then ask us if we were as excited as they were. The truth was, as happy as we were for the trip, we were also cognizant of the work of it---packing and unpacking, flying almost four hours both ways with a four-year old, being there only a few days without much time to adjust to the time difference, figuring out how to keep a little kid occupied in an older couple's home without toys (but with plenty of breakables), etc. It wasn't so much that we didn't think we'd have fun, especially sharing time with family, it was just that we didn't think of it particularly as a vacation, per se.

As the date approached, we had a further complication: EJ got pneumonia. Thankfully, we had a week of antibiotics (her first dose, ever) before the departure date, and it worked itself out. Even more amazingly, Mike and I didn't catch it!

Then, with a few days to go, we checked the weather report, and sure enough, a cold front was hitting Arizona the day we were arriving. Without swimming as an activity for EJ (at the least the first 3 days of our trip), we had to get even more creative about keeping her occupied.

Finally, the night before our trip, after staying up until 1:30 a.m. to pack, Mike and I were repeatedly awoken by EJ, who would run to our room and tell us about the things she needed to pack ("Don't forget my pink medicine, Mom!") or how the hooks that hold the butterflies that hang from her ceiling are "too shiny and scary." Needless to say, we got about 3 hours of sleeps, and that was fairly interrupted.

With all this going on, we boarded our plane last Wednesday morning, and set out for our adventure. When we arrived, Uncle Jim met us at the airport, and as tired as we were, as cool as it was (5 degrees cooler than Chicago, to be exact), and as long as our journey had been already, we immediately felt captivated by this place. Uncle Jim and Aunt Terri's kindness and welcoming spirit certainly played a big part in this---having wonderful relatives is such a blessing---but the truth is, we were surprised by how much we liked the Phoenix area. In a million years, a city in the desert would never occur to me as a place I would want to set up house. But within a few hours of being there---a few hours of feeling the sunshine, seeing the landscape, taking in the dusty yellow and rusty reds and sagey greens---I found myself having this conversation with my husband:

Me: "I could live here. I can't believe this, but I could really live here."

Mike: "I could live here, too."

Me: "We could live here!"

Mike: "This place is beautiful, isn't it?"

Me: "Yes, it is. If they have even one great Korean restaurant, we can put this on our list of post-grad school options."

Mike: "Right, Korean food. An Indian restaurant, too."

As the weather got warmer, and we got more time in the dry sunshine, time for a trip to the breathtaking Sedona, and time to trick-or-treat in the 75 degree weather with other families in the neighborhood, we kept repeating the refrain, "Can you believe it? We love this place!"

Should we visit in the summer to test it out? Of course. Should we strongly weigh the pros and cons before moving? Definitely. Should we establish that, yes, there are good Korean and Indian restaurants (priorities, priorities)? Certainly. But despite everything---despite our love of the East coast, our homesickness for Virginia, and our fondness for green trees and the changing of the seasons---will we be thinking through a move to the Phoenix area as a potential option? Surprise, surprise, the answer is yes.

Of course, it is possible that our attraction to Phoenix is in part a reaction to the impending winter here in Chicago. Just thinking about the dry, sunny warmth of the place---even the warmth we experienced on one of their coldest October days on record---is bolstering my spirit as it becomes colder and grayer around me. Even if we need to test out our new southwestern love a little more before we commit, I must say this: I'm turning 36 next week, and I love being reminded that I can still be thoroughly surprised by something, especially something as foreign to me as the desert. Just when I think I have it all figured out, life throws me a curveball, and it takes me to a delightful place that was never even on my radar.

Future Arizonans? Maybe!


Mom and Dad with EJ


Our Fearless Hosts, Aunt Terri and Uncle Jim


Stunning Sedona


Radiant Color for Miles


EJ as Cinderella, with Cousin, Jason, as her Prince Charming


The Whole Family, Minus Cousin Sara (Who Will be Photoshop-Added)