a really long post about a really long three days.

Well.  It's been a rough ride since I last checked in here, and I'm still not 100% confident that we're totally out of the woods yet.

The last time I sat down to write, it was Thursday night (writing Friday's post) and, at the time, I knew that three kids had come down with a stomach bug.  At dinner Thursday night, Penelope was saying her belly felt funny and she didn't want to eat.  By bedtime, Atticus was also saying his belly felt funny.  Excellent.

So we sent them to bed with barf buckets and very explicit instructions to NOT BARF ON THE RUGS.  I can get puke out of bedding.  I can wash puke off the walls.  I can do one bajillion loads of vomit-covered jammies.  But by golly, I can't adequately get that stuff out of the rugs.  (Plus, I really like my rugs, maybe too much, so I like to make sure they're as babied as possible.)

So.  Consider the big kids prepared.  But then LoLo got sick all over her bed.  And then Finneas got sick all over our bed.  And we were like, This is going to be a long night.  We were up and down with them constantly over the course of the next few hours.  By about 1:30 Friday morning, I was just like, I'm not even going to go to sleep - it's so much easier to just stay up than it is to be woken up every ten to fifteen minutes.

A next-morning shot of Laurelai all strung out, and her bed all covered in towels.

Our bed ended up stripped for parts, and we just put Finn on a toddler mattress on the floor.  (After first covering the surrounding rug area with a blanket.)

And I'm really glad I stayed up, because that is the pace they kept up literally all night.  There was not a single stretch longer than twenty minutes in which I wasn't holding back someone's hair, rubbing someone's back, changing someone's jammies, or (worst of all) trying to finagle how to do all this for multiple someones at once.

The night was actually easier than I expected it to be - I kept myself awake watching Friends and folding laundry.  Around 4:00 a.m., I hit a really rough spot and got super sleepy, so I made myself some coffee and read a magazine for a bit.  It revived me until about 6:00, when I started to doze.  (Never for very long, mind you, because the pukes were still going strong.)  Once Todd got up at 8:00 and could take over kid duty, I napped for about 45 minutes until he had to leave for work.

I have no idea what was going through Todd's head when he got upstairs that morning (he had slept on the guest bed in the basement to cover Atticus Duty.)  The aftermath looked postapocalyptic - there were piles and stacks of dirty and clean laundry everywhere, and his wife looked like a zombie-corpse.  He lovingly documented it all on his phone.

Luckily, though, the worst of it was over by that point for the kids.  Once morning came, everyone was in recovery mode.  The big kids didn't even wake up until 11:00!  So we spent the day in jammies, watching Netflix and eating saltines.  I tried to nap a couple of times, but weirdly wasn't even tired - I got about 20 minutes in each time and felt good to go.

I had so much chicken broth bubbling away on Friday.  Pressure cooker broth for immediate use; huge stockpot full of broth for later.  Middle saucepan full of mac and cheese for me, because I earned it WANNA FIGHT ABOUT IT?

HOWEVER.  Saturday morning, Rocco came down with the bug and spent all day dry-heaving.  (The nice thing about getting hit with the flu in the morning is that there's nothing in your stomach yet.)  LoLo and Penelope started running fevers, and Lo even started puking again and had some issues 'below the belt,' ifyaknowwaddimean.

All Rocco wanted to do was cuddle.  You didn't find Todd complaining about it one bit.

Then yesterday morning around 4:00, Todd got hit, so he spent all day yesterday laid out in bed.  Rocco and Lo were still running fevers, Rocco subsisted on broth all day (he wouldn't even touch saltines), and Lo was still dealing with some stuff in both directions.  So, it was yet another day of jammies and Netflix and laundry and praying over my rugs.

Which brings us to today.  So far, I am the only one who has not gotten it.  Knock on wood.  I still have not fully recovered from my all-nighter, pregnancy already lowers a person's immune system, so I suspect I'll probably get it at some point.  But it's also kind of like, I'm still in the shallow tides of morning sickness, so honestly, would it really be all that much worse than what I've already been dealing with for the last four months?  If I caught it, how long would it take before I figured out that I was sicksick? 

So every time my stomach feels churny, I'm just like, Stop being a baby - you're not sick, you're just pregnant.  And then my stomach meekly retreats back into relative submission eventually.  Mind over matter,  right?  Or maybe it's just pride before a fall?  Only time will tell.  Pray for me, guys.  Pray for me.


todd said...

you are a trooper. you handled our sicknesses with aplomb.

Maren Fleer said...

You are definitely "Super Mom!" It makes me tired just reading about all of that. I'm sure I will learn this "super mom" mentality when I have children, but I just say for now, "Go Paige! You rock!"