As our Sunday winds down, with Mr. B and me hanging out on the back porch reading and writing to the glow of citronella candles, I can’t help but feel like we just experienced a life-affirming weekend.
It didn’t start out that way. Far from it, actually. Wednesday afternoon, Dottie Lou came down with a fever — which progressively got worse, topping out about about 103.4 Wednesday evening. After a sleepless night for Dottie and Mama, Thursday morning, we took her to the doctor, though by then her fever was gone and she was acting like her normal self. The doctor couldn’t see anything really wrong with her and sent us on our way.
By Thursday afternoon/evening, the fever was back. Bringing with it screams and cries and moans. My poor baby was in horrible pain — but from what, we couldn’t tell. After dealing with just over an hour of ceaseless screams, we called the nurse line at the pediatrician’s office. They couldn’t offer much because Dorothy didn’t have any other symptoms, and the fever was controlled with Motrin.
Poor Dottie slept a total of about five minutes that night. Mama, too, as Dottie thrashed and kicked and screamed. But Friday morning, she woke up — again — fever-free and happy as her normal self. At this point, I was super confused. Until I buckled her in to her car seat. That’s when I saw a few red spots on her hands and a couple on her feet. A quick trip to the doctor’s walk-in clinic hours confirmed it: hand-foot-and-mouth disease.
No daycare. And no work for Mama. We pretty much quarantined ourselves in the house all day Friday — with me washing my hands often enough that they got pretty raw. My attitude found itself a little on the raw side, too, as I cursed hand-foot-and-mouth for taking away the wondrous weekend I had in my mind. Running errands, hanging out at the park, shopping for a few wants I had, tackling a springtime to-do list. This weekend, like a lot of others, was pretty much planned out before it even started.
But hand-foot-and-mouth wiped the slate clean, as we found ourselves pretty much stuck to our little corner of the earth — trying to keep Dottie from exposing any other kids to this nasty sickness.
And, you know what? This has been one of my most favorite weekends in recent memory.
Friday after work Mr. B and I took Dottie to a local hiking trail, where we knew we could avoid running into anyone or touching any surfaces someone else might later touch. We put Dottie on the ground and let her roam free. She made it about 50 feet before she sat down and started digging in the dirt with her hands, followed by some running through the crunchy leaves. And, she was so very happy.
It wasn’t a long trip because Dottie tired quickly. But, it was a good bit of fresh air that she and I both needed.
And, Saturday, with nothing to do, we finally put up Dottie’s swing set and filled her sandbox. We spent much of the day alternating between the warmth and sunshine of our backyard and the cool protection of our home. We went at Dottie’s pace and just enjoyed ourselves — no agendas, no to-do lists, no plans. I couldn’t stop feeling like I was on a different planet, looking at my life from the outside. I felt my life’s purpose being refreshed before my eyes. Dottie was happy. I was happy. Life was — life is — good.
Today was much the same. Though we had intended to go to church, I felt it was best to keep Dottie away from other kiddos still. So, we hung out, had a picnic lunch and just spent time enjoying each other’s company. Dottie learned lots of new things, like how to get on the back porch without any help, how to peek under the fence at the neighbor’s dog and how to drive Mama crazy by repeating the same phrase over and over (and over and over), knowing that Mama couldn’t figure out what she was actually saying.
We topped off the weekend by sharing with Dottie one of our favorite things about spring- and summertime in Michigan: the return of the ice cream shops.
Being without a plan and without a to-do list tends to throw my world into chaos. I like things in front of me so I can see them, anticipate them and then anticipate what I can do if something goes wrong.
Life has been really great about trying to teach me that I really don’t have any control over anything — in big ways and small ways. Thankfully, hand-foot-and-mouth — though not fun and definitely painful for Dottie Lou — is a pretty small thing in the grand scheme of life.
So, I find myself, sitting here on the back porch, watching the candles dance in the breeze, feeling really thankful for the blessing in disguise this weekend. This “quarantine” forced me to focus — really focus— on what’s really important. And I’m going into this new week feeling refreshed and renewed.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have this week’s planner calling my name — those to-do lists won’t write themselves!