What's Up With These Early Fall Illnesses?

First it was The Girl who had strep, followed by a rash that internet medical sites told us was scarlet fever. She was home sick from school for three days last week.

Then it was me with a horrid cough followed by a temperature that spiked to 103.5 last weekend. (I’m much better now but still have congestion and a slight cough that won’t quite go away entirely, ‘tis quite annoying to The Spouse at night.)

Then today, The Youngest Boy, who has been hacking and coughing for a week (once so badly that his teacher sent him to the school nurse to rest for a bit), developed a fever. It was a low fever, but still . . . And even though he begged me to let him go to school (yes, I was as shocked as you by the fact that he wanted to go to school, but I suspect it was because he had gym class today), The Spouse and I insisted that he stay home, even if it meant that I had to miss my morning yoga class and attend to his various and sundry requests (make him comfy on the sofa, make him chicken soup, etc.).

A few days ago, I was convinced that I’d be on the receiving end of a mid-day call from The Eldest Boy to come and get him from school because he said his throat felt “weird” although he didn’t have a fever and his throat didn’t look scary. But he made it through school day okay, although he was a bit more fatigued than he normally is for a few days.

I’d hoped that we’d squeeze in a trip to an apple orchard this weekend, maybe get some fresh cider, cider doughnuts and pick enough apples to make lots of apple crisp, perhaps a pie, if I'm feeling Martha Stewart-ish. However all that autumnal goodness will be put on hold until I’m sure that The Spouse doesn’t become the final one to be felled by this parade of early fall illnesses.

Three for Thursday: Fall TV's Families, Early Risers & Bronchitis Blows

Fall TV’s Families

As the fall TV season kicks off in earnest, I’ve been paying close attention to shows that feature parents and families . . . at least those which tickle my fancy. This was the focus of this week’s pop culture column over on Modern Mom/Mommy Tracked where I previewed the shows which I’m planning to record on my DVR.

Among the returning shows I’m anxious to see are ABC’s Modern Family, CBS’ The Good Wife and BC’s Parenthood. (I reviewed the rather disappointing Parenthood season premiere here, though I’m fairly certain it’ll improve.)



Two new comedies about which I’m holding onto some lofty hopes are NBC’s Up All Night with Christina Applegate and Will Arnett as potty-mouthed new parents (you can watch the pilot episode on the web site) and ABC’s Suburgatory about a single dad (Jeremy Sisto who was great as the messed up brother Billy in Six Feet Under) who moves his teenage daughter from New York City to the ‘burbs in an attempt to provide her with a more protective, wholesome environment. The sharp, snarky pilot reminds me of the freshman season of Desperate Housewives which expertly satirized the faux perfection of the suburbs.

What shows are you eagerly waiting for?

Early Risers

The Eldest Boy asked The Spouse and me to drive him to school for 7 a.m. every day this week in order to get a little extra drum practice with his teacher leading up to the middle school band tryouts next week. (Yes, we’ve got a drummer boy in da house. And thank God he’s good because if he wasn’t, I’d be buying myself some pricey noise-canceling headphone . . . and Tylenol by the gross.)

Meanwhile The Youngest Boy, who also plays the drums/percussion instruments in the fifth grade band, has claimed that he too is supposed to arrive early to school for band practice as well. Only he’s not quite sure when exactly, which makes getting him where he’s supposed to be a tad, um, tricky. I think he simply guessed that he had to be there early yesterday, so I hauled my fanny out of bed early – The Spouse had already driven The Eldest Boy to school – to drop him off at school. That afternoon he reported that he and another kid just wound up sitting in the office until school started because the band teacher wasn’t there. His mistake or the teacher's I’m not quite sure. (Last year The Youngest Boy missed a bunch of band practices because he hadn’t been listening to the teacher when he announced the dates and times.)

All I know is that I was up, dressed and had applied make-up every morning this week well before I normally would have and if it was for no good reason, I'll be. I’ve sent The Youngest Boy's band teacher an e-mail asking him when I’m supposed to roll out of bed early and bring my fifth grader early. I’m still waiting to hear back.

Bronchitis Blows

Last week it was The Girl who not only came down with a vicious case of strep throat which caused her to miss three days of school (after not having been in school for a full week yet), but she also developed what we believe was Scarlet Fever. (Yeah, sounds Dickensonian doesn’t it, or something out of a Jane Austen novel? But when you’re already taking antibiotics, as The Girl was, this side effect of strep isn’t a big concern, or so the pediatrician's office told us.) She rebounded nicely and was well enough to play soccer on Saturday morning.

A few days later, The Youngest Boy started complaining of a sore throat and of feeling poorly – a strep test was negative though – although he never became sick enough to stay home from school or stop participating in activities.

Then there’s me, who catches everything that goes by as if I’m fly paper. Although I miraculously did not contract The Girl’s strep (despite the fact that I’d been snuggling with her the night before she was symptomatic), I have developed a sore throat and vicious cough, the kind that you feel deep within your chest, like an itch that you just can’t scratch. (I only get relief from said itch when I pound on my chest to loosen the phlegm. Sounds awesome, right? You know you’re jealous.) Plus my voice has already started going hoarse, as it does at least three times during the fall/winter season.

A quick check of my symptoms on various, illustrious medical web sites indicate I likely have bronchitis, something I get rather often, and the only treatment is really no treatment at all. Other than rest, which I can’t really get with 14 million kids’ activities going on.

So when I sound like I’m coughing up a lung at Curriculum Night at my fifth grade son’s school tonight, hopefully the school nurse won’t march on over and hand me a face mask as the other parents inch away from me.

Waving the White Flag to Mother Nature

I wholeheartedly concur with the sentiment expressed on page one of today's Boston Herald:

Look at my front yard, it's like a sea of snow. There's actually a front walk that's been shoveled repeatedly, though you can't tell. There's part of a driveway there that's also been plowed but it doesn't look like it's been plowed:

If you look out the window of our family room, the snow piled on our deck is now higher than the window sill:

Plus, I've been, personally, under the weather and getting better incrementally, which is much too slow for my overanxious, normally highly caffeinated self. As I'm impatiently waiting to feel like myself -- I couldn't muster the energy or enthusiasm to watch last week's "State of the Union" speech, unheard of for me -- it has literally felt like Groundhog Day over the past week+ as the snow has kept on coming, and coming, and coming, and school has wound up being canceled, and the kids complain that they're bored. (Seriously kid, I have a blanket over my head, dark circles under my eyes, am as pale as a sheet of paper and you're telling me you're biggest complaint is that you're bored? You should be feeling lucky you're not in downtown Cairo right around now.)

This is my long-winded way of explaining why I haven't been blogging in this space in several days. The family melodrama around the Picket Fence Post household has pretty much gone like this: Mom's not feeling especially perky but still does some stuff around the house (cooking, dishes, tidying up, ordering groceries online) and assisting with homework. Dad's trucking the kids all over the place to all their activities, doing all the laundry, shoveling paths in the snow for Max the dog, driving through wretched weather to work and slaving over the ice rink to keep it smooth for the Picket Fence Post kids who have been enthusiastically using it.

In fact, The Youngest Boy, all dressed in his hockey gear, just burst into the house in tears this afternoon because he and his brother were having difficulties clearing the latest round of rain-soaked, extremely heavy snow from the rink and had given up. "It's just too heavy!" he cried. The Spouse, he of the bum ankle, will have that back-breaking goodness awaiting him when he drives home in what forecasters are saying with be treacherously icy conditions.

Mother Nature, if you're out there, if you're listening: This winter sucks. I hate it. I, like the Herald, cry Uncle. No mas.

We Had Ourselves a Flu-ey Little Christmas . . .

Lots of folks are emerging from the Christmas holiday break and are politely asking one another how their holidays went. For most people, I hope the answer is, “Fun! The kids had a great time and I got some time to relax and see friends and family.”

But in the Picket Fence Post household, my answer is, “The kids had a blast, loved Christmas, but I was sick in bed for eight days with what my doctor said was the flu, perhaps the swine flu, and my husband sustained a very serious ankle sprain during a basketball game – had to be carried into the house by a friend – and a neighbor had to drive him to the hospital in the middle of a blizzard.”

Yep, after all the planning, the anticipation, yours truly fell ill on Christmas Eve day, when I brought The Girl to church to rehearse the Nativity play (she was playing Mary). I got out of bed for the Christmas morning gift-opening extravaganza, but spent the next week mostly in bed, not eating for four days due to crushing nausea, fierce head aches, dizziness and life-sapping fatigue. The Spouse’s ankle sprain occurred the day after Christmas but he was able to hobble around on crutches and an air cast.

It, in essence, sucked.

On the bright side, the children loved their gifts from The Spouse and I and Santa. The Eldest Boy received the item for which he’s been pleading for years, an iPod Touch, The Girl got a white desk for her room and a DSi, while The Youngest Boy spent vacation re-enacting A Christmas Story's Ralphie Parker with the airsoft BB gun Santa brought him -- think regular BB gun but it shoots non-toxic, biodegradable plastic BBs at a lower speed than the metal BBs -- while wearing the faux leather jacket we gave him that he loves so much he wants to sleep in it.

Unfortunately, because their parents were detained by illness and injury, the original plans we had for an active, fun Christmas vacation (I’d hoped to take them to play Laser tag, maybe go into Boston on New Year’s Eve day), it was a mellow week-plus. The Spouse did limp to the theater to see two movies with the kids and, on another afternoon, sat in the car while they went sledding, while I mostly laid in bed uninterested in reading or doing much other than sleeping and wondering when I'd get my appetite back.

This morning was the first morning since I’ve been sick when I woke up not feeling like utter crap. Plus I've eaten. So I consider both of those things major accomplishments.

Fingers crossed that 2011 will be a healthier one . . . and that The Youngest Boy doesn't shoot his eye out a la Ralphie Parker.