You know how they say, “When you don’t have anything nice to say…” Well, that’s the mantra I’ve been opperating under for the past week …
Q. Is there anything worse than getting physically sick? Again and again? All night, and then all day?
A. Yes. Heaving your brains out and then crawling out of the bathroom to make waffles for one child and clean up the puke of another. Again, and again. All day. And all night. When all you want to do is put your head on the bathroom floor and lie there for at least two days. Or maybe even two seconds.
Why? You cry. Why? But no one is there to hear you besides the sick kids who want their water. With ice. (Or, maybe this time between pukes they might need their diaper changed, or (gag me) food, a trip to the ER regarding the terrifying rash that’s itchy and swelling their whole face up, or medicine for their ear infection, or sinus infection, or strep thoat, or they might be throwing up themselves … )
That’s where I’ve been.
It’s been bad. Really bad. And instead of a wham bam everyone down all at once, it’s been a long string of one after another, and then around we go again. I thought we were over it on Friday. And then along came Friday afternoon.
Sadly, we’re not the only sick puppies in this town. Alaskafella’s been at the hospital all hours (trying to avoid us I think); leaving me to crawl around this cess pool of germs, snot, and vomit on a solo mission to keep my young alive. It’s animalistic.
You’re lucky we live so far away. Because otherwise I’d make you put a mask and get over here. And then I’d hand you a baby. And a drop cloth. Because puking babies don’t know which way to turn their heads. (So, please could you pick up some resolve carpet cleaner on your way?)
And once you got here and had my babies on your hips and a plastic smock of some sort over your hair, and clothing, and face, and everything …
I’d crawl to my own sheetless bed. And stay there for like the rest of my life.
We’re a f*^#ing mess right now.
I miss Alaskarella. And I miss YOU more than you miss me. Trust me. I do.
No rest for the weary,