203.4

That's the combined number of degrees our children were the night of Thanksgiving, how did yours go?

Ainsley had arranged for a different petsitter (who somehow screwed up the order of payment for services due and also left me a pumpkin pie the size of a spare tire in the fridge) so my Dad could come out to The Barn for a couple nights. So knowing I'd be riding the Metro to near his workplace whenever we got released at the Pentagon, Ainsley had planned on driving me to the Slug Lot at 0630, seeing as Erin's usually up by then anyway and Ryan could just sleep in the car and they could get bread at Panera and finish packing and be on the road by 0830.
HA says Erin to that plan, being up from 2 to 4:30. I tried to get her down between 3 and 3:30 to quite the lack of avail. Did I mention the garbage truck comes now at around 4:47am?
So I told a dozey darling that my car would be fine in the lot for a few days, that she should snooze as long as she could.
There were only four folks in my office, the rest on leave, so it was fairly quiet. The boss let me split around 1, and Dad and I hit the road a little before 2. With 4.5 million other people on I-66. But it cleared up after a half-hour and we made it to Berkeley Springs before it got dark.
Dad had a great idea on the way -- since we usually have a devil of a time getting Ryan and Erin to sleep in the same (albeit Children-in-the-Attic large) room, he offered to let Ryan sleep over with him at the 'Tukul', the African-themed guest quarters over the double garage. Although a little confused why I was leaving him there, he happily waved at me from the top of the stairs, and apparently didn't make a bit of a fuss about where his parents were. Dad was tickled enough that he's offered to let him slumber over at his house any time. We may have to take him up on that prospect.
The weather was crisp but sunny for Thanksgiving, and Ryan got some good Grandpa Tractor time in before struggling to take a nap. He woke up in a bad mood, and didn't stop crying even after bringing him across the compound to see Mommy. Should have been Clue #1.
We sat down for a family photo at the dinner table, with Grandpa's camera taking a nose dive from the unstable tripod on to the cement floor, giving the lens a Rocky Balboa In Round 15 look to it. Then dinner was served, but neither one of our kids were interested in eating anything. Clue #2.
Not wanting to expose Dad to whatever the heck was going on, we decided to keep Ryan with us that night, which turned out to be one of the worst on record as far as getting any sleep. We were up about every hour with one or the both of them, consoling, cooling, taking temperatures, giving tylenol by syringe or cup. Can a child really be that hot and have a cold at the same time? It was a night that we counted the hours until daylight so we could finally at least stop pretending that we were supposed to be asleep.
Dad left Friday morning to go to a dental appointment (fun!), and we just hung out watching birds and shopping on-line for replacement cameras while Erin tried her hand, so to speak, at the daunting open-backed non-dual-banistered wooden staircase. Ryan's fever had broken, but Erin was still a little quasar, only sleeping 17 minutes with me (I insisted Ainsley take a break and get a nap in her dang self), crying for close to 40, then, unable to get her to stay asleep during the transition from gentlehalfnelson to the bed, I just sat in a chair with her and slowly turned the pages in a magazine while she slept in the crooks of my elbows.
I gave her a bath when she woke up, and she seemed to be feeling a bit better. And in the continuing saga of milestoneage, she is successfully signing "more" with a prominent index finger poking a palm with aplomb.
Got back home mid-day Saturday, leaving us the weekend at home to relax and try to stay healthy.
Thus far: Dad 1, Mom 0. Though I feel a little tickle in the throat...