"What are you doing, mom?" asks an inquisitive Spawnling this afternoon.

Trying to balance a bottle of cleaner in the crook of my arm while tearing off a strip of paper towel, I say "Just cleaning the windows, buddy."

"Are they dirty?"

"Yes. They are."

"... Is that because I touched them without using Purell first?"

It's official: I've turned my youngest child into a germaphobe.

It's not my fault. Let's blame it on the Kawasaki he acquired last month. Throw in a little extra vigilance due to H1N1 and it's a recipe for disaster. What am I supposed to do? I can't go back to to my easygoing ways. I can't just say: "It's okay, Person With a Cold. You can come into my home where I have one child who's on aspirin and can't get a viral infection and another child who's lungs have about a 75% chance of contracting pneumonia every time he gets sick, and a mother who lives down the street who can't fall ill because she's immuno-compromised and resistant to nearly all antibiotics. Come on in! Want to wipe your nose on my sleeve? Maybe lick some cutlery?"

Ah, the reality of my current life; where I've had to beef up microbiotic security and shed my previously relaxed stance on germs. No two-year-old should have the word 'Purell' in his vocabulary. No person should shudder every time she's out and hears someone coughing. No mother should sanitize her door handles this much, even with three boys touching them. My laissez faire half snickers at my anal retentive half on a daily basis. I know it sucks, but it is what it is. It's an inner struggle I quell with evening chocolate.

Chocolate makes it all better.

Spawnling has his follow-up echocardiogram on October 20th. At that point we'll find out if his little heart made it through the Kawasaki-induced inflammation unscathed. There's a good chance it did. A very good chance: About 93%. So, I'm trying not to worry too much. I'm trying not to think of the little aneurysms that may be hiding in his artery walls. What aneurysms? I don't see any aneurysms...

Did I mention chocolate makes things better?

It's funny, you know. When I signed up for this parenting thing, nobody ever told me I might have to know what an echocardiogram is, or why a toddler might need one. I expected broken bones and antibiotics and asthma. I even anticipated some pneumonia, given my family's ridiculously bad lung karma (although Gutsy has broken some records, I'm sure). But dealing with extremely rare diseases? Apparently I didn't read the fine print.

The good news is that I'm feeling a little better these days. I've stopped crying when I talk about how traumatic our stay at the hospital was. I don't feel as big a lurch in my stomach every time I think about the few days when he was so sick we thought we might lose him. Every single time he says or does something insanely cute or funny does not fill me with so much emotion that I get teary. I mean, I still think he's awesome and miraculous, but his presence is once again becoming more every day, more commonplace; a good sign of healing if I've ever seen one.

I feel funnier again. I feel stronger. I feel more beautiful (if that's even possible). I'm really getting a grip on life again. I want to write more, and talk more, and be my excellent self more. Every task does not seem so overwhelming these days. I'm not gasping for air while trying to keep up with the every day. The house is looking more like a home and less like a nuclear test site. Meals consist of at least three food groups. School forms are being returned no more than a week after they're due.

Yep. I'm getting my groove back.

I'm trying not to think too much about October 20th or the news we might hear. It's a million miles away, and between here and there is a sea of activity, including Spawnling's third birthday.

You know, I used to worry he would grow up too fast. Then, in August, I worried he would never grow up. And now I'm just grateful to be celebrating his birthday at all. We were lucky and I don't think I'll ever forget that.

Perspective is a good thing. Know what else is good? Mixing peanut butter and chocolate, which I did last night when I made peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. I am going to go eat one or five of them now.

What's today's motto, everyone? Chocolate makes everything better. That's right! So go have some chocolate and think good thoughts for October 20th, ok? Awesome. Thanks.