"There's No Place Like Home"

"There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home," this simple statement is quickly becoming my mantra. We have yet to leave home and come back all in one piece. Barely home from our vacation, bags still to be unpacked, Caleb begins weeping all over the house. He flops at my feet, weeping. He slumps in his chair, weeping. I give him a juice box, he laughs... and then weeps. He accidentally pulls out the straw, and the weeping commences. He squeezes the juice onto himself (normally resulting in a hilarious reaction) and weeps uncontrollably. There is no placating him. His nose is running, he runs around coughing and drooling and sneezing on everything and anything he can find. The germs are spread. Soon after... I wake up with a sneeze. 'Just allergies' I think to myself in naive stupidity. A Kleenex box later, and dehydrated from loss of fluid from my nose (all right, not quite that bad) I revise this statement. I surely have a cold. Then, yesterday, my little girl, supposedly immune to the infections of the world, starts weeping. Oh no. Her eyes are red rimmed, then the fever starts at full throttle, and my independent beauty turns into a cuddle monster. Ahhhh, the only one immune to the blessed result of our vacation is Jonathan, and envy is formed. "Not too bad' I console myself 'it could be worse'.

On Wednesday we went to the school for Roots of Empathy with Selah. Two grade three girls watched Caleb in another room while I went into the classroom with Selah. So far so good. The day went well. No uncanny episodes to recall. And home we went. The next day the phone rings and I am sweetly informed that the very class that my kids were in, has multiple cases of chicken pox. And worse yet, the girl who was sitting next to me has lice!!!!!!! Oh spare me. All I dreamt about last night was little white larvae crawling on our heads. YUK! Then yesterday was my bi-yearly dentist appointment. A simple cleaning. The hatred of dentist bred deeply into me, I sat on the chair hands clenched in anxiety with every movement of the hygienists hand. The past two visits I have been unable to have x-rays due to my "delicate condition" and therefore we decided to get them done this time. I soon hear those dreaded words... cavities. Four to be exact. The icing on the cake of my abominable week. Taking a deep breathe, I pack up my kids from the babysitters and come home. Is this really happening? Am I prepared to ever leave this house again? People call me a hermit, and for good reason. Every time I step outside these doors I come home with some new disease to call my own. And each time I vow to myself that it will never happen again. It is a vow as futile as a New Years resolution and soon after we are once again exposed. Sigh.

So until the next communicable disease hits our unassuming home, I bid you farewell. And hope to recover from this cesspool that is now our house.