We survived! The girls are, after a week and a half of misery, on regular sleep schedules and are ready to move and be active again. Moira’s cutting more molars (How many teeth does she need? Surely not all twenty) but other than that things are better. Tom and I never did get sick, but Tom’s poor visiting dad got slammed. How he made it onto the plane and back to America, I will never know. I mentioned to a friend today that the girls hardly ever get sick, which I thought was true, but Tom reminded me that Moira’s had a constant low-level runny nose with occasional coughs for…well…she was born in Yorkshire, okay? That comes with a certain amount of perpetual lung crud.
Maggie’s Hawaiian-to-English transplanted constitution is fortified with high early levels of tropical sunshine with a cast-iron finish of northern England resilience, so for her to spend a full week and a half sick instead of a day or two here and there is a rare event and one that we can actually just about set our calendars to expect. We have noticed for two Decembers now that she gets sick in the lead-up to the darkest day of the year and then also that two Marches running have seen her fallen with vicious viruses (roseola and swine flu, respectively). We joked about her having seasonal affective disorder but after last week it isn’t as funny as it was. Once is an event, twice is a repeat occurrence, three times is a pattern–we’ll see if we spend next Christmas aiming her head toward a bucket and soaking her face with cool cloths.
The best news is that they were feeling well enough for Tom and I to start seriously discussing travel, which is something we can’t fathom when they’re sick. When both kids are sick at the same time we stare at each other with slack, resigned faces and wonder how people did it before pizza delivery. Now that they’re well we can contemplate life outside of our house beyond the radius of the supermarket two miles away and the Domino’s up the block.
First up: Malta. Malta was an impulse, thanks to cheap hotels and affordable Ryan Air flights. Next is Belgium for seven days, to which we will be traveling by ferry! Maggie doesn’t know that yet, so we anticipate great excitement and hope to whet her appetite for sea travel (more in a moment). We may try to sneak something in for the Easter term break. And then…
…a cruise! Our first cruise!
Yes, we are going to become boat people. As internet rabbit holes go, cruising is almost as scary to me as those survivalist canners I mentioned before. The forums and discussions dedicated to cruising as a way of life are vast. Endless. I’m doing a blog for Tripwolf soon about why we chose to cruise instead of doing four our five little trips as some friends suggested we do instead for the same amount of money, but the short version is this:
1. Four or five little trips mean lots of flights, whereas the cruise leaves an hour and a half from our house. Flights mean people in a tin can, breathing recirculated air, which means pestilence and WE HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF THAT THANK YOU. Ahem.
2. Maggie needs the continuity of her speech therapy, so one block where she’s gone is better than several.
3. Two small kids. 24 hour buffets. Amen.
7 countries in five months. 2012, I’m not sorry to see you go. Bring on the year of exploration. This is going to be our year.