not this time

We got back yesterday evening from my spouse's family cottage. It's a place I love and where I am always happy, even when the weather does not cooperate.

So despite the fact that I couldn't bring myself to go swimming and I didn't sit around on the dock in my bathing suit, I still found time to read, enjoy the company of family and make art with D. ("Who would have thought that painting could be so much fun?" he said. "Using your imagination!"), knit, go for walks, eat and drink too much and just relax. My spouse taught S. how to play Backgammon and D. taught me how to tolerate playing PayDay.

It was all quite lovely, even if we we did miss the sun.

On the very last night, though, D. woke with a fever and could not get back to sleep. He threw up twice (and copiously) on our long drive home.

I kept him home today and let him watch DVDs in his pajamas. By this evening, he was asking to go to the park.

Through it all, I comforted, fussed and nursed. And tried not to heed the guilty voice in my head: "The kid has lousy timing! I can't get sick. I leave on Thursday for BlogHer!"

This evening my head hurts and I am achy. I feel just as I did before the fever set in, on the day before my ill-fated Toronto book launch.*

I cannot get sick. I will not get sick. I am going to bed and tomorrow, I will wake up feeling well.

Cross your fingers for me, OK?

*temporarily ill-fated. Re-scheduled for October.