"I'm going to throw up!"
That's a phrase every parent knows all too well.
Sebastian had fallen asleep in the car on the way home from the con; I'd taken him upstairs and put him to bed. Teri fell asleep very early too, by 7PM at the latest. I stayed up to go online and catch up. I created a couple of communities, gateway_sf
, to cover children's genre literature and RPG war stories, respectively. The related panels at the con had been active enough to make them seem like a good idea. And since the con itself had been a bit of a disappointment, I suppose that I was trying to capture some of the excitement I'd missed.
Suddenly I heard Sebastian fussing loudly. As I ran in, he was crying and saying "I don't want to go on stage!" I'd been trying to persuade him to do a Kamikaze costume for the Masquerade this year, but he'd been too scared. That was okay - I'm not one of those parents who forces their kid to do things that they really don't want to do, except for take a bath - but I think he'd been dreaming about the con.
I tried to soothe him. But instead he woke all the way up. And that's when he announced that he was going to puke. I grabbed the nearby bucket and got it in front of his face just in time. Good thing, too: it was a doozy.
To my surprise Teri never woke up. I always wake up before she does when Sebastian is upset; my ears just seem to be tuned to his voice, even when I'm sleeping. But this time, she was really out. Even when I ran into our room to get some tissues and called her name, she stayed asleep.
I ran back and saw Sebastian through the storm. When he finished, he was shaking violently and was a bit messy. ( cut for gross detail )
I took him down to the bathroom and cleaned him up. He had no fever, so I got him to rinse his mouth out, blow his nose, and drink a little water. As I took him back upstairs, Teri woke up. She comforted him, and then went back to bed as I read "Goodnight Moon" to him. By then, he'd perked up a lot
. He was wide awake, talking a blue streak, and generally very alert. I had a sinking feeling.
I sang all his favorite songs, told him stories...eventually I
fell asleep before he did. But when I woke up a few hours later he was sound asleep. I went down stairs, cleaned some things, had a sandwich, and came back upstairs. It was way
too late for me, but I had to do one more journal entry - this one. As I wrote, I suddenly heard Sebastian fussing and saying something about "Arisia!" - the rest was indistinct. I ran in, and this time was easily able to soothe him back to sleep.
We're all feeling sick, though. I think I'll christen it "The Arisia Syndrome"; when over a thousand people (some of whom must inevitably be sick) are crowded into a tight, hot, dry space, contagion is inevitable. Add in exposure to severe cold - and it was damned
cold when we went to the Boston Commons to get the car, so much so that Sebastian literally screamed with pain - and the result is pretty much inevitable.
I'm taking Airborne now. And in a couple of minutes, I'm going to sleep