Twelve Days of.... OMG? WHA?

On the first day of Christmas,

My true love gave to me –

A kiss as he left the country.

On the second day of Christmas,

Bad luck gave to me --

Two kids moaning

And a kiss as he left the country.

On the third day of Christmas

Bad luck gave to me

Three sick kids!

Two kids moaning,

And a kiss as he left the country.

(You know how this goes, right? Let’s skip forward to the grand finale…)

On the twelfth day of Christmas

Bad luck gave to me –

Twelve loads of laundry

Eleven buckets emptied

Ten ruined towels

Nine blown-off meetings

Eight shouts for “MOMMY!”

Seven gifts un-shopped for

Six chores a-waiting

Five…. Hours…. Of…. Sleep!

Four tummies rumbling

Three sick kids!

Two kids moaning

And a kiss as he left the country.

That’s right.

While solo-parenting three children during both a busy professional and personal time of year -- which is an understatement of epic proportions, the Grinch visited my Who(wouldathunk)ville and left the kind of gift that keeps on giving. And giving. And oh, yes, giving again.

In the interest of sparing most of the goriest details, let me simply say that it might have been better if each of my kids became sick all at once rather than in progressive order -- in the middle of the night. And it was not sugar plum fairies dancing in any our sleeps! It was sort of like the March of the Nutcracker but instead of ballerinas, I got a stinky parade of the flu- and fever-ridden.

And it wasn’t twelve days – I’ve taken some liberties in the interest of “musical genius” – but it felt like it was. (Come to think of it, maybe it was twelve days: I’m so sleep-deprived, most of the details are lost on me.)

I am pleased to report that the worst seems behind us. Like always, good will (and an industrial-sized can of Lysol) have beaten that nasty Grinch from our door. The tummy rumbling has subsided, the fevers are gone, and soon enough an airplane will deliver my True Love back from a continent far, far away.

In the meantime, I’ll be scrambling to finish all the things left undone this week, which are so many that there are some I will surely overlook. But come Christmas Eve, I know I won’t forget to set out a special plate of milk and cookies for the one who has done so very much for me this Christmas season.

My washing machine.