Well now, we have had an eventful week. Feisty Pants had Veterans Day off, and so did Hippie Pants, so we spent the morning raking leaves and doing yard work. Then Goo, who was on a "let's get this stuff done kick" (and who was gently reminded with a kick to his shins by FP), dragged out all our Christmas stuff out of our attic. So we put the tree and lights up too. (You're welcome, neighbors! ) The day was long, especially for Goo, but Tuesday evening we were feeling down right cheerful and Christmasy. (Shut up, that is too a word.)
The universe has rewarded all our hard work and bon vivance (that is also a word, so still shut up) by giving us a few days off. As in nothing's getting done now because we all have ebola. Or the plague. Or zombie flu. Or whatever hideous, awful, literally gut wrenching virus is going around here right now. I shouldn't whine too much. No one is having terrible complications, especially FP. It doesn't last forever. It only feels that way. And we have been very lucky. Feisty Pants is having only minor, if messy, tummy troubles. Goo and I did not get it at the same time, so while it makes for a very loooonngg couple of days for one of us, we are able to handle it without having to beg relatives for favors. It does make me worry what one is supposed to do when a minor crisis becomes a major dilemma because you have a special needs child. I cannot just hire a babysitter. Seriously, it cannot be legally done. You have to be trained on her machines. We had to take classes on them before we ever allowed to bring her home as a baby. Nursing care is usually available but hard to arrange, so by the time it is set up, the crisis has passed. We are so lucky that Hippie Pants is close enough to help on the mornings she doesn't work.
But, we are indeed lucky, and so far, fingers crossed, in eleven years we have yet to hit a snag where we couldn't find a solution. We will recover, even if we all whine the entire time. It is just a nasty tummy bug. We did, after all, get our major work for the week done beforehand. But if you are new to the caring for a feisty one, make sure you have plans for the crazy stuff. Like what to do if you all get some horrible zombie flu at the same time. Or someone needs an emergency appendectomy. Or gets hurt because some idiot did not see the 6'3" man in the bright blue coat and white helmet on the big silver and black scooter and hits him with her car thus putting one his arms out of commission for three months. Or any of a billion things that complicate all our lives on a daily basis. Otherwise, what is a minor (or even major) complication becomes a tsunami of "how the hell will I ever get this done?"