Amy Visits During Sam's Misfortune

First, Sam contemplating his Mighty Beans, and those lent him by cousin Jon. These are essentially horse-pill capsules, painted to look like a little figure, and with a small weight inside so they can stand on end.

They are collectables with no almost no intrinsic value (depending how much you value the artwork), so are perfect for little guys to collect, arrange and hoard, as in the old jewelry box sent up by Uncle Stu. (For those who are curious, the slippers are a gift from our Japanese friends Yoko and Yasuki. As I write this I am kept warm by a blanket they sent as well!)

Took Sam to the Y to extract some kinetic energy on Saturday. On the way there I played for him selections from a cd by the 80s Canadian pop group Rush. (Think "Tom Sawyer.") During an extended drum solo from their popular voiceless song "YYZ", Sam said to me, "Did adults make this?" I asked why he wanted to know, and he said it just didn't sound like it. I guess he means it sounded more like kids messing around on drums (which doesn't do Neil Pert justice but makes for a great story). I am going to take this as an effect of playing classical music for him all the time. :-) Don't worry, it's not that he doesn't appreciate rock, but it certainly doesn't all sound the same to him.

This picture of domestic tranquility is how the weekend began. Susan and I went off to small group while Amy stayed home and did a neat, original craft with Sam before reading to him and putting him to bed. Never have brads added so much to an evening! (Brads are doodads for attaching two sheets of paper while retaining a pivot point.)

Saturday night Sam, having been normal and active all day, rapidly fell ill and vomited, ending his playdate with Lexy.

Two years ago was the Year of the Croup. He had it more times than I can count, giving us many nights I'll never forget, sitting out on the "sun" porch in the moonlight so he could inhale cold winter air. The year before was the Year of the Stomach Bug. He invited in (courtesy Montessori and other playdates) ferocious bugs my body had either forgotten or never seen before, taking Susan and me down with him into the vortex of stomach-clenching heaves.

This year hasn't had a theme yet. Last week he had strep so entrenched it could light up the throat culture strip (is it a strip?) from a foot away. I announced with a perverse pride that he'd thrown up nine times.

Now I am sorry to have wasted your time with such an amateurish display. This weekend he caught what the doc thinks is a stomach bug. His Sunday school teacher had said the week before that Sam had probably in that one day (the strep day) exceeded the total number of regurgitations her daughters had experience during their entire childhoods. I guess there is a real range. Susan and I certainly never experienced a night like Sam had last night.

Without going into any further detail (really, I am just running out of synonyms), he was emptying his stomach every 10-20 minutes throughout the night. He was so tired he would claim, while heaving, that he was actually done and should be allowed to lie down and go to sleep.

Today's been much better-just once. We installed him in the family room, in the fold-out love-seat we got from Stu and Sue's hotel (or it should be theirs!), and it's a measure of his illness that he didn't just watch t.v. all day. Happily, he got really interested in the Planet Earth series, in addition to his well established enjoyment of Scooby Doo and the Loch Ness Monster.

Aunt Amy displayed into-the-valley-of-death courage, keeping us company while Sam was in rapid decay. She even made Sam two "love bugs" to cheer him up, shown above.

So Sam's home from school tomorrow. Say a prayer for him and for Susan, whose deadlines don't change despite these vicissitudes.