The Flu Flew In

Emma woke up in the middle of the night Monday screaming loudly. She got sick in her crib and it scared the poor thing to bits. Needless to say, the wee hours of Monday were long and wakeful. We took her to the doctor on Tuesday where she pulled a fast one. Feverish, fussy, and lethargic, we went ahead and made an appointment for her to be seen. The drive to the doctor's office was the right amount of time for her to perk right up, rid the fever, and gather steam for a little display of busy-ness right in the exam room. She seemed just fine - no fever and all smiles - so we sheepishly watched while she was pronounced quite healthy! Later that afternoon, another wave settled in and it was not pretty. By yesterday, she seemed to be on the upswing, but she was unusually fussy. Hold me Mommy...no wait, put me down. In my chair...get me out of this crazy chair. I want a cup...get this drink away. On we went for most of the day. So, I toted her crabby little self around on my hip all day, secretly enjoying her willingness to just lay her flushed little cheek on my shoulder and be still for long periods of time.

Then, Emma felt the need to share the joy. By last night, Hayden and Buzzard were both down and out. Have you ever wondered why kids don't ever get sick in the middle of the afternoon? If they'd get the show on the road before suppertime, we could have things pretty well wrapped up by bedtime. But no, insidious sickness always creeps in during the midnight hours, robbing everyone of both good health and good rest. So, it was another late night. Max came downstairs to sleep and I went and stayed in Hayden's bedroom with him, scratching his back and having sweet conversations by the glow of the nightlight. When I crept downstairs this morning to check on Emma and found Buzzard still in bed, I knew it couldn't be good news.

So, Emma has started a trend. Buzzard calls her Typhoid Mary.

I think by this morning she turned the corner. We made a conscious decision that today would be a better day.....we wore our Happy Pants.

I slipped out for a quick Walmart run this morning to stock up on essentials like soda crackers and Sprite. And this....

They spoke to me. Nothing promises cheesy, crunchy comfort quite like Chester Cheeto. It would have been cheaper to buy the family sized bag, but I didn't dare. I love them to much. I'd have polished off the whole thing. My (very funny and more than slightly OCD) Dad loves them too. He eats them with a spoon so he doesn't get orange fingers.

So, that's the update in these parts. The good news is I feel great! Well enough to fire up the washer and dryer all day and pour a few dozen glasses of 7 up. I've washed my hands a hundred times and doused the kitchen and bathrooms with spray cleaners. Max was quite the little helper today, and I pray he stays well going in to the weekend. I'm already peeking ahead to see where I might be able to schedule a seven hour nap the next few days! :) In the meantime, I'm going to try to get this manor on the mend!