I've done it again, somehow it's the middle of December. Our household has been struck with bug after bug. The cold that lovingly lends itself to the next person, just as the first person is beginning to come out of the fog. First my son had it, who passed it on to his sister, who then shared it with me. There was a lull, of about 4 days, were everyone seemed on the mend, then out of nowhere Mad's nose started to drip again, like a faucet. She's on round 2, which hit this time around with slightly more oomph. Then my husband got it, and now, we're just waiting to see who's next. Who's the weakest? Will another one of us succumb again? Being sick with the common cold is just so un-fun. Having to perform the usual parenting duties: get the kids up and out of bed, dressed, fed, ready for school, lunch packed, and NOT miss the school bus. When all a person wants to do is go home to their Mum's house and crawl on her couch, and not have to worry about any responsibilities. To be taken care of, rather than the being the caretaker. Isn't it amazing how something as common as the cold can make us revert to being a child our self.
After 5 days of not leaving the house, with a crabby, snot-nosed, feverish kid following my every move, I'm just about at my wits end. THANKFULLY, my sweet mother came over to give me a few hours out. (or there's a chance I might have been institutionalized) Not to mention, that suddenly I feel completely un-prepared for Christmas. Yowser. Once again, I'll end up at the mall with 100's, if not 1000's of other shoppers. We'll be enduring painfully long line ups at every store, while a bunch of 16 year old sales staff (that have been hired especially for the Christmas season) are too busy texting their friends, to give a crap about the people that need help or have questions. And, because it's -27° outside (NOT including the windchill) we'll be bundled up in sorrel boots, long underwear, parkas, mitts, hats, scarves, for fear the arctic wind will instantly freeze any flesh that happens to be foolishly exposed. There we'll all be, lined up, in the over-crowded malls, with our hearts palpitating, while we slowly feel our anxiety levels creeping up, and our body temperature rising. Suddenly there will be that buzzing in my ears, and I'll realize in a panic that if I don't find a place to either strip down (and when I say strip down, I mean get my coat, hat and scarf off, and perhaps my heavy sweater) and get my head between my knees, or lay down horizontal and take deep breaths, I'll faint, and likely land a spot on Global News at 11 pm. That very panic which of course, causes my heart to begin racing, as I'm looking for somewhere deserted (HA!) to lie down and not draw too much attention to myself from all those that pass by (as I hope to work through this scenario without losing conscientiousness). You're likely wondering if I've ever had any experiences like this. Indeed I have.
So for myself, and all you others, who feel hopelessly behind. Good luck, and hopefully we'll all find a spot in the parkade, so we don't have to wear all our outerwear inside the mall. I don't know what time you have to arrive to be guaranteed an underground parking spot this close to Christmas, but I certainly aim to find out. I'll be sipping my decaf ginger spice late, smiling at the sales staff, perhaps taking in a texting tip or two, as I wait in mile-long lines. Merry Christmas!