Nov 172008
 

I solemnly swear, as God is my witness, that I will never complain about poop or snot again. Because puke? Is waaaaaaaaaaaay worse.

Our fun started at around 11:00 Thursday night, when I emerged from my post-bingo shower to discover Julie and Andy cleaning up Henry and the puke that was all over him/his bed/the floor. Henry took the phrase “blow chunks” very literally, if you catch my drift. Several hours of puking later, Henry quieted down, only to have Eleanor start up. Eleanor continued to puke all morning, completely soaking Aunt Julie, Mommy and Daddy as she went along. I even got to go through one of the motherhood rites of passage, Catching Puke in Your Hand.

The fun continued when I woke up Saturday morning feeling queasy, and then spent Saturday afternoon praying for the sweet release of death when I wasn’t throwing up. Andy was crossing his fingers that he would bypass all the yuckiness, but haha! gotcha! It caught up with him around midnight Saturday night.

I don’t want to gross you out with details of our diaper/bathroom habits, so let’s just say we’ve had it coming out both ends. Plus shooting stomach pains. Plus more nausea. Plus fevers. Henry and Eleanor were extremely lethargic on Sunday (like, Henry didn’t get out of bed until 2:30 that afternoon, and both kids spent the day completely horizontal), so we had a couple of phone conversations with the nurses at the children’s hospital. Thankfully, no dehydration-related trips to the E.R. were needed.

The one upside to gastroenteritis is all the snuggling I’ve been able to do with my babies. I think I snuggled more with Henry and Eleanor this weekend than I have in their previous nineteen months. They are the perfect size for cradling in the crook of your arm. At one point on Sunday, they were both napping on me, and I found myself amazed—how did the three of us ever share one body?

We’re all still puny and whiny and can’t seem to eat much. Andy was off work on Friday to help me deal with sick kiddos, and then off again today to deal with his own sick self. And my poor sister! She spent the weekend in Nashville packing up, but got puked on before she left, and came home to a germ-infested cesspool. Today was the first day of her new job in Indy, and all we could do when she got home was apologize for the messy house, then roll off the couch into the kitchen to see if we could choke down some saltines. Andy and I seem to interfere with all of Julie’s major life changes. We lost Sam & Emilie the week that Julie graduated from college. So I fully expect her to hide any more important events from us, in fear that we’ll break our legs or burn down our house.

Hopefully we’re on an uphill swing, though. Typing out this post is the most upright I’ve been in four days. So come on, immune system, get in gear!


napping and nauseated

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