The plague hit our house in January and I managed to avoid it. Somehow. But not this time.
It all started New Year’s Eve when my three-year-old threw up. My five-year-old got it a few days later. That spawned into pink eye for the youngest, followed by my husband two days later and then my five-year-old. They each followed that up with a cold that lead to ear infections and strep throat. Through it all, I managed to stay healthy. That was until Friday.
Last week my youngest woke up on Saturday vomiting. It continued throughout the day, followed by the icky poops all day Sunday. Monday she was in the bathroom no less than every 10 minutes and then threw up again that evening. I kept her home another two days before I felt confident enough to send her to school and not infect all of the other children with her germs right before Easter.
Friday, Good Friday, my first official day of vacation for my kids’ spring break, I was tired. I was so tired and crabby and ready to kill someone. But the one thing I wasn’t…hungry. I had a very difficult time sleeping Friday night and woke up Saturday vomiting. I continued to feel sick throughout the day but I was determined to be better for Easter. The next morning, I felt mostly great.
I had dry mouth really badly.
I was a little weak.
I was hot all day.
I felt a little nauseous.
But I figured that was me, getting over the stomach bug.
That was until Monday morning.
After another horrible night of sleep, I woke up sick again.
So, let’s count that up, shall we? Friday, Saturday and Monday. Three out of four of my vacation days have been filled with lots of nothingness. My poor kids.
Tomorrow, I’m hoping to power through despite how terrible I feel (hopefully I’ll feel better) and get to Hobby Lobby for some craft supplies and to the grocery store.
I’m hopeful.
That is, unless that last child standing from this virus suddenly becomes ill. Oh, yeah, that would happen to me.
Next year, we’re going to Florida again for Spring Break.