It all started last Thursday. Jay came home from work and told me he'd been sick most of the day with a headache and vomiting but around midday he took something and was feeling better. Let us pause a moment to discuss my husband's work ethic. On the one hand, obviously it's awesome and I know it's what's made it possible for me to stay home with the kiddos all these years. (Thanks Jay!) On the other hand, I just want to scream, "Dude, take a few hours off so you can puke in the comfort of your own home and not the trash can in your office." Moving on....
Saturday morning I woke up feeling iffy. I thought I'd be fine after coffee. I wasn't. Within an hour I had a headache so bad that I couldn't stand up without feeling barfy. So, not sharing Jay's work ethic, I went back to bed and stayed there the whole day. Jay had to go to work (this is a busy time of year for him) so while I was in bed the kids were left to fend for themselves Lord of the Flies style.
Let us pause, yet again, to discuss the work ethics of my children. The girl loves to help and is always willing to pitch in. But she's five, so without someone managing her, she doesn't really do much. And if she does, it's not in a way that is truly helpful. The boy is almost twelve. He does nothing without being told. In fact, he flies as low under the radar as possible so as to avoid being told to do anything. Needless to say, this will all be brought up at their yearly evaluations and I doubt anyone is getting any raises this year. Don't get me wrong, the kids took care of me while I was sick. They brought me tea and crackers, repeatedly warmed up my Happy Heat pack, and generally stayed close by just in case I needed something. But as far as cleaning the house goes....yeah, nothing got done.
By Saturday night I was feeling somewhat better. Jay was home from work and I was all set to continue lying in bed. This time with my husband and maybe a bit of True Blood. But then around 9:30, I heard it......the distinct sound of someone in the other room about to be sick. I arrived just in time to see the girl throw up her chicken nuggets. All. Over. Her. Bed. (Keep in mind the girl likes to sleep hotel style, with numerous sheets, blankets, pillows and a duvet.) I cleaned her and her room up the best I could and made her a bed on the floor next to me.
I next went to the kitchen to find something to reduce her fever. I clicked on the light and was met with splatters of play doh everywhere. It would appear that a small play doh battle had taken place while I was sick in bed. But that wasn't the worst of it. The worst was waiting for me at the edge of the carpet, a pile of steaming dog crap. Apparently, the boy (the one NOT getting a raise this year) had been a bit lackadaisical when walking the dog. Nice. I cleaned that up, got the girl her medicine, and went to bed.
No one slept well that night. The girl talks in her sleep when healthy. When feverish and ill her sleep talking becomes weird, loud, and delusional. For instance, she repeatedly called out for me to "burst the water balloon." Don't know what that's about.
My Sunday was spent nursing the girl back to health, doing seven(!!!!) loads of laundry, and steam cleaning the carpets. Because it makes no sense to drag the steam cleaner out for one spot. Why not do the whole apartment, says the crazy woman high on Day Quil.
Now it's Monday. A holiday. Jay's at work (again, it's a busy time of year for him). I'm still catching up on laundry, dealing with a whiny girl, and pumping the boy full of vitamin c in hopes that he'll avoid catching the bug that plagued the rest of the family.
How was your weekend?