Much like the Spanish Flu, Spring Break Flu is an epidemic of catastrophic proportions. It develops very quickly, is extremely powerful, spreads like a wildfire (mostly via Instagram), and is violently dangerous toward any and all expectations. Spring Break Flu craves your expectations with the hunger of 1000 teenagers after a swim meet, and it will obliterate them like a swarm of locusts. It isn't quite at Birthday Botulism or Wedding Plague levels, but, still, I wouldn't go leaving any expectations just laying around if Spring Break Flu is visiting your house.
I'm sure I've addressed Expectations before, but, just to remind everyone, Expectations is major villain in the Awkward Universe. He is a Big Baddie; Dr. Doom, Kingpin, Apocalypse (comicverse, not movieverse, obviously), Green Goblin, General Zod. You get the picture; this is Boss Level stuff. (P.S. All those links are fantastic, but Kingpin in those purple pants has got it going on like Donkey Kong.) Expectations is NOT a villain to trifle with, and yet, it is unbelievable how many of us just toy with him, expecting that everything will work out fine. (Ugh, is she gonna keep doing that? Yeah, I expect so.)
Here's how my Spring Break Flu is going this week. Expect to be horrified.
Monday.
The only really planned event of the week was set for today. From previous battles with Expectations, I have learned over time, so I only planned one travel-based event this Spring Break. I have clearly not learned enough.Some backstory: Super Oldest has a birthday at the end of February and all he wanted this year was to go to the Field Museum. So, we carefully planned and were all set to go to Chicago the day after his birthday, which was the day I got diagnosed with strep throat.
That plan scrapped, we carefully planned and were all set to go to Chicago the first day of Spring Break, which was the day Super Daughter got diagnosed with the stomach flu.
And by diagnosed, I mean, threw up on me at 2am. But I wasn't gonna let that deter me; I carefully dressed her, cajoled her, begged her, bribed her, and fed her sips of water from 6am-8am in an effort to show that she just ate something weird and was not, in fact, battling Stomach Flu. At 8:05am, she threw up on me again, and I was forced to admit that she would not be able to make the trip to Chicago. This left us with many options, none of them good. (1) Reschedule again, (2) scrap the whole idea, or (3) one of us take some of the children. We opted for option 3 and I was chosen to go, mostly since Awkward Dad has more medical experience and I have more experience driving in Chicago, plus marginally more self-control in gift shops. So, I gathered up all 3 Super Boys, our packed lunch, the pass to our local museum (which has a reciprocity program with the Field and you should check your local museum out for this too, Frugal Fans!), and what remained of my confidence, which wasn't a lot.
Going into the Field Museum, I had no remaining reserves against Expectations. I thought that, without Awkward Dad's boundless and often foolish enthusiasm, we would last 2 hours at the most, and I braced for a lot of fighting about which exhibits to see, a lot of whining about being tired, and a lot of demands for museum food and gift shop toys.
Gotta love a good foreshadowing shadow.
None of that happened. Much like a Tyrannosaurs-Rex, Expectations can smell fear and foolish pride. I had none left, so Expectations left me alone to go bother a rather sweet looking family from Ohio. Their toddler broke a shoe, their 8-year-old had a melt-down over Legos, and they didn't make it past 3pm, poor loves. The Supers and I, on the other hand, rambled where the wind took us and had a happy afternoon, mostly lost in the Hall of Animals, watching art students sketch. It was utterly magical, especially the part where I told Awkward Dad not to expect anything from the gift shop and then totally bought him a book.
Tuesday.
Tired from yesterday, all I expected to do was to clean the play room, which has sorely needed it for 4 weeks. Months. Can't be 4 years, we've only been in this house 3 and a half. OK, maybe 3 and a half.... But I was confident that I could clean one room in one day. Totally doable.
Totally not doable.
Super Daughter, while not actively throwing up, was still weak and in need of snacks, Gatorade, and attention. As was Super Baby, who has learned to open the pantry to get her own snacks and Gatorade, but still sorely requires attention, as she isn't quite as skilled at getting said snacks and Gatorade into her mouth. Therefore, this required about 7 kitchen floor cleans by the end of the day. And then Awkward Dad came home early, slipped on the clean (and wet) kitchen floor, and therefore did not make it all the way to the bathroom before throwing up. I never should have told the children that I expected them to share...
I gave up expecting to clean the play room and sat on a pile of toys in there and cried, in-between floor cleanings and fetching buckets.
Wednesday.
Have you ever had stir-crazy children and a man-sick spouse in your house at the same time? I didn't expect to survive Wednesday at all.
I did survive. So, that's nice. I guess.
Thursday.
Awkward Dad, not quite well but no longer actively vomiting on the kitchen floor, headed back to work. The children all seemed healthy enough, so I allowed a playdate with some neighbor kids, expecting this to have a calming effect on the children. Yeah, about that...So, during a particularly important moment during Wii Bowling, Super 2nd-Grader bowled a solid strike, which would have been awesome, if the Wii control hadn't flown off his wrist and also landed a solid strike, right in the middle of the TV.
Strike!
It's certainly not a spare...
The next 3 hours are a bit of a blur, I think Expectations got in a few head-shots and I expect I have a head injury. Super 2nd-Grader, expecting that Awkward Dad was going to kill him, locked himself in a closet. The neighbor kids vanished (nice super powers there, guys!), and the Supers were suddenly incredibly focused on cleaning the aforementioned play room. I do remember contacting Awkward Dad at work so that he could talk Super 2nd-Grader out of the closet, but after that, I sorta collapsed on the my bed and that's where Awkward Dad found me, cuddling a sleeping Super Baby and mumbling about bowling expectations.
He took Super Baby, tucked me in, took the kids out for take-out (which I had expected us to give up for Lent), and told me that he fully expected me to do nothing on Friday, except attend my therapy session. He even offered to change his spring break expectation to visit a friend over the weekend, in light of current illnesses and a suspicious coughing from Super 2nd-Grader.
Friday.
Super 2nd Grader has been vomiting since this morning, so I blew off every expectation I had for today to write to you all. Now, I expect....No, not expect. I don't expect anything.I AM going to read and eat Thin Mints until my therapy session this afternoon.
I like to pre-therapy for therapy.
Expectations has not left the house. I have mom-hearing and I can hear him cackling in the corners right now. He's a major villain and here for the long haul. I lose a lot of battles with him, but I will win the war. I AM going to win the war. I have support, awareness, and enough Girl Scout cookies to defend my heart until the end of time. I will beat him someday. Spring Break Flu is not a major villain and will leave soon. However, I do not expect that until probably midnight on Sunday night.
At which point, I fully expect to catch a Book Fair Cold...
