There is No Logic Filter on My Brain.

When Dylan was sick over the weekend prior to Halloween, he missed four days of work that he’d been waiting for since 2016. It was sad, but he was so sick that even he thought it was okay.

None of us were happy that we never found out what was wrong with him; all we ever learned was that he had some sort of virus.

So when Christmas Eve arrived and Dylan said he was feeling weak, we kind of shrugged it off. He doesn’t drink much water, so we gave him some water and told him to eat something healthy. He did.

When, on Christmas morning, he said he felt shaky – even after eating a healthy breakfast – he made himself a hot dog to quell the shakes. Then he had a relatively normal Christmas day.

But when, on the day after Christmas, Dylan claimed to be not feeling well – and he said he wanted to go to the Smithsonian with the rest of the family – we knew something was wrong.

Dylan had a fever of 99.8 when the rest of the family left for the Smithsonian. When we came home, it was 101.3. Last night, he fell asleep on the couch around dinnertime and woke up with just enough energy to crawl into bed.

Now it’s nearly noon, and he is still asleep.

Perhaps even more oddly, Shane is still asleep. He is nearing those sleep-forever teenage years, and I would not be terribly surprised if he just stayed up too late after a whirlwind holiday.

But when I came home from the gym and saw that they were both still sleeping, with their bedroom doors both closed, I actually thought: they’re dead.

I have no logic filter on my brain. None. I immediately jump to the most catastrophic concept. This does not make me a good mother. In fact, it makes me substantially too anxious. And this comes out in repeatedly spewing my fears onto my children, making sure they know everything that they should fear.

Today, there is nothing to fear. There is a light snow falling outside. My boys are tired, and one is sick, but they are both fine behind those closed doors.

I think.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *