Germs and Toys and Graduations, Oh My!!

What I never realized when I was a kid was how very difficult it is to make the holidays the joyful season that they should be for the children. I guess that means my mom did a good job, but DAMN, it is hard, hard work. I am trying to buy and wrap all the gifts, get the Christmas cards out, decorate the house, and oh yeah, take care of two small children and work full time. All by myself. It is nuts. And it doesn't leave much time for things like blogging. So here is where I give you all a very short review of what's been going on.

• Germs. So it appears that when one starts a new school, one gets exposed to all sorts of different germs that one hasn't been exposed to before and one ends up getting "sorta" sick. Like every other god damned day! I say "sorta" sick because it isn't like he has a full blown cold and is horribly sick (to the point where I might actually feel sorry for him), but he has a low grade fever, a raspy voice, a stuffed up nose and the pitiful voice to declare to me in the morning, "Mommy, I sick. I hafta go to Gigi's house. Can't go to new school." So I succumb to his pleading and send him to my mother's house whereupon I receive a phone call approximately 3 hours later where my mother says, "This child is NOT sick. He is running around my house shooting webs at all of my Christmas decorations. Tell me again why he is not at school?" At which point I feel like an asshole and vow that I will send him to school tomorrow no matter how badly he complains in the morning. So I do. Send him to school that is. And then when I pick him up the director looks at me and says, "I was just going to call you. Seems [Boy] has a low grade fever and isn't feeling too well." So then the next day when he declares that he is sick I really can't send him to school because they just sent him home with a fever the night before and only an asshole Mommy would send her son to school after that. So I send him to my mother's house and get the call approximately three hours later, "This child is NOT sick..." Rinse and repeat. He started his new school last Monday. He has been there a total of 5 days now. Absent for 4. Not a great track record.
• How is it that babies are born with some voodoo innate ability to find all of the toys that they should NOT be chewing on and chew on those? I swear The Girl could have 50,000 of her nice, safe toys sitting right in front of her and she would somehow manage to scoot her little ass all the way across the room to snatch the helicopter her brother was playing with. You know, the one with all the small parts that she could easily swallow? Yeah, that one. I swear there is going to be an emergency room visit in my near future. Either that or some funky looking poops with a wheel somewhere inside of them.
• This last part deserves its own post so I will probably talk about it again later. But I was told today, at The Boy's speech therapy that he might be ready to graduate. As in he might not have to go back. Like ever again. Holy shit. He has been going to this place for therapies since he was diagnosed with his suck/chew/swallow issues at a year old. He will be 4 in January. I can't believe it. I am equal parts thrilled and relieved, and sad and scared and...really? My boy? Done with speech therapy? I don't even know how to properly respond...