I live in a House o' Puke. Tuesday night, Clay started throwing up. He ran a fever all day Wednesday. Thursday evening, Brooklyn started throwing up. A few hours later, Lexi joined her. I was awake all night going back and forth between the two of them. In the wee hours of the morning, my stomach started feeling a little funny. I convinced myself it was only because I was so tired and needed sleep. I talked myself out of throwing up for hours. I tried to trick myself that I wasn't really sick. I prayed my Vomit Prayer. "Oh dear God, please, please, please, please, please, please, please don't let me throw up. Please!!!"
And then I threw in the towel. (Literally, I threw a towel over all the vomit.) Oh yeah, and I start throwing up myself. I texted my friend, Eric at 4:30 in the morning. I've got it now too. :***(
He was at my house by 6:30 with bags of Gatorade, Sprite, chicken broth, Pedialyte pops, soda crackers, oyster crackers, children's Motrin, Advil, anti-diarrhea meds, hand sanitizer, antibacterial wipes, etc.
I sort of remember letting him in my house and then passing out. Apparently he held my girls' hair while they threw up and cleaned up puke messes and disinfected everything in sight. I awoke at 10:30 when he left for work. Honestly, if it wasn't for him, we'd all be living in my van right now because my house would be full of disgusting uckness. Eric, there are no words to thank you enough for all you did for us. (Oh and just so you know, I love you and all, but there is NO WAY I will ever come clean up after you should you get sick. Just sayin'.)
Not wanting to be left out, Jackson joined Vomitopia this afternoon. I haven't seen Austin or Savannah all week. I think they've been hiding in their rooms, going to and from school via their windows. Smart kids. I leave for California on Tuesday. My parents may or may not come watch my kids for me at this point.
I did fourteen loads of laundry today because I did nothing but cry in misery from my fever and achiness, sleep and um, run to the bathroom the past two days. I've gone over every surface in the house with antibacterial wipes. I've used so many cans of Lysol, everything has a nice, glossy coating now. When I get back, I'll be listing the place for sale. Unless, of course, I get the report that the kids are still sick, in which case, I'm staying in California until spring.
And when I logged on my computer tonight to tell me tale of horrible sickness, I was greeted with a headline that there's a cholera outbreak in Haiti that has left 250 people dead so far.
People often say to me, "How do you do it? You have it so hard."
I don't have it hard. And even when I delude myself into thinking I do, I'm reminded that there's always, always someone out there who has it worse. So, tonight, I'm saying something that you probably never thought you'd hear me say. "Thank God for simple viruses that only last 48 hours."