24 Hours

Our flight down to Orange County was uneventful. Renting the car, and getting our luggage, uneventful. Driving down to Carlsbad, we encountered traffic but otherwise, uneventful. Checking into our hotel, and finding our room, uneventful.

How different 24 hours can make in a life. Twenty-four hours earlier, I had been watching Alex get Chemo and get a blood transfusion in the hospital. Twenty-four hours later, we were getting admitted to the hospital here in San Diego for low counts and fever.

The twenty-four hours in-between were wonderful...

After we checked into the hotel, we changed into our bathing suits, and headed for the kids pool. What we found was perfect. A pool no more than 4 feet deep, and a water area with a little slide, and water features to play with. After a great time at the pool, and a quick soak in the hot tub, we wandered over to the brewery on-site, and all enjoyed dinner.

In an effort to get the kids tired, we took the kids over to the playground, and watched as Tessa and Alex seemlessly inserted themselves into the group of kids there. Eric and I wandered around the grass, trying to find a wireless signal strong enough to log into LegoLand's website and plan the next day. After defeat in that endeavor, we just sat down and enjoyed the warm California evening, watching our two children embrace their childhood and giggle uncontrollably, and unconditionally.

As the night fell much earlier in this part of the country, our kids bodies assumed it was much later than it was. We decided to take advantage of this misconception, and get the them to bed early.

Since Tessa is my wiggle-worm, Eric and Alex shared one bed, with Tessa sharing the bed with me. The boys were out almost immediately; the snoring announcing their exhaustion with every breath. Tessa had other plans. After three hours of feet in my back, on my head, and in my face, I decided to sit in a chair until Tessa could fall asleep in the bed by herself. Not five minutes later, she was softly mumbling in dreamland.

After slaping my hand to my forhead, I stumbled back into bed, and slipped seamlessly into unconsousness before my head touched the pillow.

Morning came early for Tessa (and, subsequently, me). Tessa wandered to the black-out curtains, and my attempts at discouraging her next move were thwarted by her enthusiasm for the day's promise. “Daddy, Alex, it's morning-time! It's Morning-Time, IT'S MORNING-TIME! LEGOLAND!!!!” With her voice still ringing in his ears, Eric awoke. Alex was harder to wake, although Tessa did give it her all.

Eric and I stole glances at each other throughout the morning. Alex was grumpy, and tired, and did not eat much of anything at breakfast. We both were worried that we would have a repeat of Alex's Make A Wish trip. Eric's hand kept hovering over Alex's forhead, automatically checking for the tell-tell sign of fever, that would not only scorch his hand, but his heart. Neither of us wanted to say out loud what we feared, for to speak it would give the fever power over us.

We finally coerced food into Alex, and after a rousing run in the sun outside, we headed to LegoLand.