Tis NOT Our Season

Okay, peeps.

I’ve had 24 hours to let this soak in (read: fester), so now I’ll share a little post about our BIG upheaval of plans yesterday when Little Man tested positive for COVID.

Yup.

Officially the cherry on top of our SHITE sundae of never-ending viral ridiculousness this season.

I should have knocked on a much larger piece of wood a couple weeks ago when I cracked a joke that this was the only virus that hadn’t yet circulated through our household in the past two months.

And, honestly, it should tell you everything about how beaten down my attitude is that I would joke about the virus that launched a catastrophic global pandemic. I’m aware of how terrible that sounds—and also aware of just how many households have been inundated like ours this Fall/Winter.

Still.

It’s hard to keep a positive attitude.

You really couldn’t have scripted a more untimely situation yesterday if you tried. I was aware of several positive cases within Little Man’s class just before the holiday break, so I’d been watching him closely. The day before our departure, I’d noticed a bit of congestion, but we’ve obviously had crazy weather blow in, so it was hard to determine the cause.

Welp.

We woke early on Wednesday, all stuffed to the gills with our car packed, suitcases loaded, kiddos up and fed and ready for their final restroom break before buckling up for the all-day drive to Oklahoma—until Little Man launched a coughing fit that just didn’t sound like nothing.

Honestly, I thought giving him an at-home test would just be a quick way to clear out any concerns, but lo and behold, it took a bit of time and the line was faint, but that dang test turned up positive. And my heart SANK.

The hubby ran down the street to CVS to buy a different brand of test, and wouldn’t you know it: that effing thing lit up bright and instant with a glaring positive result.

Thus ensued the WORST few hours of crying kiddos, massive disappointment, the incredibly depressing task of unloading and unpacking a car from a trip you never got to take, and then just wallowing in our sadness for the entire day.

Not gonna lie: these travel shirts—along with the fact that we’d already dosed poor Chicklet with Dramamine to survive the journey without throwing up (like at Thanksgiving), so she was unnecessarily loopy—make a complete mockery of our day.

I’m hoping that someday, in the not-too-distant-future, we can laugh about that pic.

But for now, it’s just a major BUMMER.

We’re going go do our best to rally and summon a bit of jolly, but it’s going to be a strange Christmas. Our first, ever, that will be spent alone, without family.

Thinking of everyone else out there who might feel lonely or disappointed or just plain blue for reasons far more significant than ours, and sending you love.



More mañana, peeps.

Over and out.