An Apple a Day

Why do fevers strike at midnight?  You’re sound asleep one second and the next you’re kneeling by the side of the bed while your child sweats through the sheets.  It’s terrifying.  I know. I know. Fevers are healthy.  Fevers are helpful.  They are useful to fight illness.  None of that comforts me when I’m simultaneously watching the numbers on the thermometer climb and counting down the minutes until the ibuprofen kicks in.  Morning brings another doctor’s visit, another strep test, another run to the pharmacy.  Even in a screaming fit, Piper delivers comic relief.  After a thermometer reading this morning, she lifted her weepy head off my shoulder and assigned blame where only the logic of a four-year-old can go.  “Wait!” she cried. “Nana said if I ate my apple I wouldn’t have to go to the doctor.  An apple a day keeps the doctor away.  She said so!” Such betrayal. And from her grandmother nonetheless.  “That’s it,” Piper declared, “I’m never eating fruit again!” That should definitely solve the problem.

The Same Mother

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We stayed at the beach until the bitter end, stuffed our suitcases with dirty clothes, and hopped a midnight flight home. At a sleepy breakfast the next morning I saw the difference between my two children.  I don’t know how two such varying people come from the same mother. The older sister spoke the voice of reason; she recommended that next year we come home a day earlier from our two week rockstar vacation to rest, to unpack, to catch up on laundry, and to buy groceries. She seeks civilization and order. Her baby sister embraces chaos and adventure. The uncertainty seems to fuel her spirit. Struggling to hold up her face from her cereal bowl, Piper asked, “How come we didn’t go to New York City, too?”