Laylee’s always making plans. She wants to build things or have Santa or Dad build them. When she describes these plans to me, they usually involve building a house similar to our own only smaller and just for her. Depending on her mood she’ll either want the house outside in the backyard to serve as a clubhouse, over her bed to ensure she never need sleep again at bedtime, out front so she can sell her baked goods out the front window, or in the family room in front of the TV.

When I recently told her to put the “house” on her wishlist, she said, “OH Mom! This isn’t a wish. It’s a Dream Come True.” Do you wanna know what would be my Dream Come True? My Dream Come True would be for everyone in my house to stop being sick all of the all the time. My Dream Come True would be for us all to never be exposed to germs again or mutate in some way that we are impervious to them.

Is there anything as powerful as a sick child that can keep a mom running on nothing more than worry, adrenaline, and coffee for days without crashing?

Gabby has been sick for days. The type of sick where you have the doctor on speed dial and know the answering service people on a first-name basis. (Oh, hi, Susan. Jennifer here again!) It is not the type of illness where you give them some ibuprofen, some juice, and send them off to bed. It is the kind of sick where we are watching her around the clock and piggybacking medicines to attempt to keep her fever down. (Which, so far, is not very successful but it's keeping it lower than the danger zone.)

On Wednesday, Gabby began to complain of not feeling very well. By that night she had a 104.7 fever. We medicated her, called the doctor, and got her in to see her pediatrician first thing on Thursday. He said she has the flu and it was most likely the H1N1 version.

It started with a canker sore. We were driving back to Seattle from Salt Lake City where we had been visiting family. I started passing around the peanut butter sandwiches and soon Magoo started bawling, “My tongue! It hurts! This peanut butter hurts my tongue!”

I love that both of my kids can at this stage and actually do on occasion use actual words from the English language to communicate the reasons behind their emotional outbursts.

Certain events happen every summer. You can practically check them off on some cosmic to-do list. This year we are marking the passage of time much as we have every other year for as long as I can remember:

Vacation? Planned and eagerly anticipated. A good time was had by all!

Sunburn? Not anticipated, but nevertheless showed up right on time.

Hearing “I'm bored” 10 times a day? This little gem of a chant is one I can do without, yet can count on happening as sure as the heat will make everyone whine.

Head cold, complete with fever and chills? Wait. What? Who gets a head cold in July? I mean really!

Apparently, I do.

I am not an overly protective mother and when it comes to my kid -- my strong, feisty girl of 5 -- I tend not to worry too much and lean toward "walk it off'' before I freak out.

But, of course, the girl who hasn't had more than a cold or an ear infection since she was 17-months, gets a fever of 102 in the middle of a Swine Flu scare.

Of course.