That's the name of the game around here lately. Gabe was on a week long business trip that ended last Saturday and not a moment too soon. I had another fancy shmancy long post about a typical day in my life but alas, that will have to wait because Christian thought it wise to delete it while playing on the Ipad and pushing any button that popped up because surely his game would come back on!
Moving on...
I worked in the nursery at church on Sunday and then again for our local MOPS (mothers of pre schoolers) group on Monday and somewhere along the way Noah crossed paths with a contagious baby because Tuesday night I was awoken from my slumber by Noah crawling on me covered in puke. Oh yes, life of a mother. Annnd then he couldn't keep anything down.
Thursday he was back to
mostly normal minus the nasty messes he was leaving in his diaper (again, a mother's life. envy it.). It was 70 degrees and I was feeling cheerful so I thought it would be fun to take Christian and Noah to the Farmer's Market and park before we picked up Alena from school. But no, a pleasant outing would be asking too much. As I'm getting Noah situated in his carrier (of which I had to wake him up to get him out of the car!) Christian complains of an upset tummy. "Mommy, I think I'm going to throw up."
Oh joy. Back in the car and I managed to find a large Ziploc bag to use as a makeshift barf bag if need be. And it was.
Juuust as I pull in the driveway, I hear the unmistakeable gurgling sound coming from the backseat that only a parent would recognize. Child #2 down for the count.
Just a couple hours later we get Alena from school where I hear the oddly familiar upset tummy confession from the oldest child. Christian's got the only (fresh) barf bag, which oh yes, was put to use once again and I'm racing home to prevent Alena from needing one. We get home and child #3 was down for the count.
Sensing a pattern and feeling like a ticking time bomb myself, I whizzed around the house cleaning the bathrooms (confession: I can't throw up in a dirty bathroom.), trying to get ahead with the laundry, swept the floors, and anything else I could think of that I could not but would need to do in the next couple of days. I shot Gabe a text warning him of what was going on and not to be surprised at the condition of the house when he came home.
I managed to survive until after the kids were put to bed and then held off for as long as I could. Parent #1 down for the count. The night was long and rough but I survived and we all spent Friday recuperating. I just kept throwing anything everything washable in the washing machine that we came in contact with or dirtied. At this point we were almost out of bread, milk, and other groceries since I had not had the chance to go at all during the week. I guess it was good we were just living on crackers and water anyway...
Saturday was another recovery day as Christian was back to normal and Alena was almost there. I
really just wanted a nap! Gabe came home and took the kids' attention for about five minutes or so, so I got a smidgen of a break. But Noah was/is teething so it's mommy mommy mommy all the time and I really hope this doesn't last much long because he is still like that on Monday night!
Sunday,
Suckybowl Superbowl. We didn't get to go to my friend's Superbowl party that I was
really looking forward to going to because we had a babysitter lined up and it was going to be an actual fun grownup party. But you know... sickness and all. So we stayed home and watched it which was just as well because that was just the gosh. darn. worst. game. I. have. ever. seen.
So what's my point? There is none. Vent/rant over.
Oh wait... Monday. Gabe came home sick from work early and has been sleeping for going on 11 hours (lucky guy) and still has the rest of the night to go. Parent #2 down for the count.
And that's all she wrote folks.