My Immune System

My immune system, unlike my spine, seems to serve me well.  I think I get it from my father.  He is rarely sick.  I don't seem to get ill often.  Or not nearly so often as I see other people getting sick around me.

We're experiencing the toddler plague now because it's both fall and the weather is growing cooler and also because my son is in school and everything is passed around rather viciously between the immune-immature toddlers.    I've been told by so many parents that this is a good thing for the immune system and that it will pass in time,but it is tough to see your children suffer through congestion, cough and fever regularly.

A sick child who needs direct contact from an adult to change diapers, wipe noses and administer hugs is a prime target for getting whatever the child has.  Toddlers not only don't cover their mouths when they sneeze, they will sneeze right in your face and not even know they've possibly just sentenced you to days of ill-health as a result.

Even with all this, I don't seem to catch what's going around that often.  I may get a little bit of a scratchy throat, but whatever it is, mt immune system seems to be able to get on top of it before it takes me down.  I don't know what makes some people's immune system stronger than others, but I a glad that I seem to have an immuno-fortified instead of an immuno-compromised or immuno-mediocre system.

Update:  I pre-wrote this post prior to going on vacation.  I did catch the latest round of funk, but I have seemed to weather it without that much difficulty, which is good, because it's been busy here on vacation.

The Big Boy Update:  Off the stool.  Ouch, he was helping my husband make pizza dough for dinner and when daddy looked away he slipped off the stool, fell back and hit his head on the floor.  He is fine, but I hear after he was over the shock of the fall, he was quite unhappy that he hit his head.  Slowed him down for almost four minutes.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Down the stairs, at a tumbling pace.  She is fast.  I had no idea she had even made it to the front staircase, much less followed her brother up most of it as I was cleaning her lunch tray.  Thump, thump... thump, thump, thump.  "What tha?  Oh no..."  As I ran full speed into the foyer, she fell down three more stairs.  She was falling slowly and catching herself.  She also is fine, but she was mad and upset for a few minutes after the tumble.

Someone Once Said:  Why do women have this compulsion to confess? It is not a typical male vice.