Lola's Third Birthday
Lola Kai has been anxiously awaiting her birthday for months now. She's very aware of birthdays and, now that her brain actually stores information as long-term memory, she's been counting down the months, weeks, and then days until she turned three. Raina wanted to go to the beach for her third birthday; little Lola wanted a pink cake, pink icing, and sprinkles. We happily obliged.
We picked Lola up from daycare on Friday and saw the notice: "Warning! A student in your child's classroom has been diagnosed with RSV." Not exactly the positive outlook we'd prefer, and it was compounded by the fact that the sick child is Lola's best friend. Contagion shared!
We moved the birthday celebration up a day, in hopes of getting some tangible happiness before illness struck. On Saturday we baked her cake, Raina and Lola played in the fort downstairs, and then we bounce-housed at Monkey Joe's for the afternoon. Lola ran around like a maniac and had a fantastic time; two hours later, we carried her exhausted body out, tossed her in the car, and then tossed her in her bed for a long quiet time. The day culminated in pizza and our breaking out the birthday cake. Lola got a little teary-eyed that everyone was singing "Happy Birthday" to her, but she handled the attention like a champ.
She tried to blow out the candles, but she didn't have the strength. She tried to eat her piece of cake, but she only make it a quarter of the way through. And she tried to make it past 6 p.m., but she started slumping in her high chair and laying her head on the table. Yes, illness had struck. Happy birthday, Lola! We bundled her up and sent her to bed.
Sunday, her actual birthday, saw a rather pitiful little girl. We tried to cheer her up but very few things actually did. Raw potato really brightened her morning. Who knew? Her runny nose and sneezing and coughing just got worse, the dark patches under her eyes become more pronounced, her pallor paled, her fever rose, her grumpiness escalated ... We tried another round of singing and candles, but she just wasn't in it. It was a bad day for Lola.
It was a bad day for Lola's parents too. Krystal spent the morning making potato soup for lunch. She covets an immersion blender, but, in its absence, spent a considerable amount of time hand mashing the potato soup into an appropriate smooth consistency. She ladled up a bowl for Raina and then called Lola to the dining room table. The next five minutes were disastrous. Raina, playing with the soup's steam, accidently hit the soup bowl and sprayed soup over the table, chairs, and Daddy's precious carpet. Lola saw the soup on the floor, noticed that it looked a lot like vomit in its current configuration, and then started heaving herself. The next hour-and-a-half was devoted to trying to clean the carpet but, let's face it, that carpet is a lost cause.
Monday and Tuesday saw Lola at home, still contagious and tired and grumpy. She had moderate positive moments Tuesday afternoon, so we're hopeful that she'll return to school on Thursday, which is when daycare will honor Lola for her birthday. Maybe she'll have the strength to blow out her candles then!
We picked Lola up from daycare on Friday and saw the notice: "Warning! A student in your child's classroom has been diagnosed with RSV." Not exactly the positive outlook we'd prefer, and it was compounded by the fact that the sick child is Lola's best friend. Contagion shared!
We moved the birthday celebration up a day, in hopes of getting some tangible happiness before illness struck. On Saturday we baked her cake, Raina and Lola played in the fort downstairs, and then we bounce-housed at Monkey Joe's for the afternoon. Lola ran around like a maniac and had a fantastic time; two hours later, we carried her exhausted body out, tossed her in the car, and then tossed her in her bed for a long quiet time. The day culminated in pizza and our breaking out the birthday cake. Lola got a little teary-eyed that everyone was singing "Happy Birthday" to her, but she handled the attention like a champ.
She tried to blow out the candles, but she didn't have the strength. She tried to eat her piece of cake, but she only make it a quarter of the way through. And she tried to make it past 6 p.m., but she started slumping in her high chair and laying her head on the table. Yes, illness had struck. Happy birthday, Lola! We bundled her up and sent her to bed.
Sunday, her actual birthday, saw a rather pitiful little girl. We tried to cheer her up but very few things actually did. Raw potato really brightened her morning. Who knew? Her runny nose and sneezing and coughing just got worse, the dark patches under her eyes become more pronounced, her pallor paled, her fever rose, her grumpiness escalated ... We tried another round of singing and candles, but she just wasn't in it. It was a bad day for Lola.
It was a bad day for Lola's parents too. Krystal spent the morning making potato soup for lunch. She covets an immersion blender, but, in its absence, spent a considerable amount of time hand mashing the potato soup into an appropriate smooth consistency. She ladled up a bowl for Raina and then called Lola to the dining room table. The next five minutes were disastrous. Raina, playing with the soup's steam, accidently hit the soup bowl and sprayed soup over the table, chairs, and Daddy's precious carpet. Lola saw the soup on the floor, noticed that it looked a lot like vomit in its current configuration, and then started heaving herself. The next hour-and-a-half was devoted to trying to clean the carpet but, let's face it, that carpet is a lost cause.
Monday and Tuesday saw Lola at home, still contagious and tired and grumpy. She had moderate positive moments Tuesday afternoon, so we're hopeful that she'll return to school on Thursday, which is when daycare will honor Lola for her birthday. Maybe she'll have the strength to blow out her candles then!
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