Last Saturday we started getting sick, cancelled on our friends so we didn’t share the love, and decided to take the kids for a walk instead because it was beautiful. And my wonderful hooz-bond spontaneously suggested we go out to eat to which I said a resounding “yahoooo!” because going out to eat is my true love language and apparently I don’t care about protecting strangers from the germs of my raspberry-blowing, table-licking cherubs, just our friends. It was a great day.
And next came church and fun at the grandparents’ and then a Seahawks win so Sunday was pretty bangin’ as well. Until it banged us into the floor. I went to bed with a slight sore throat that I attributed to tiredness and woke up feeling like I’d been hit by a mucous-truck which then backed back over me and dumped a load of fever on me before running over me again and I promise I’ll just leave that metaphor right there and not return to it. Sorry.
I used to say that when I was sick and congested it felt like someone sprayed up my nose with spray insulation and it expanded until I just couldn’t take it anymore. This round of winter nasty I seem to have mostly skipped the congestion thing (hooray!) but instead me and the kids are all just oozing, swampy fountains of SNOT. So. much. snot. Snot in the baby food. Snot on my sleeve (not mine). Snot on the pillows. Snot in the pacifier.
Today was the first time the kids and I left the house in six days (unless you count the oh-so-fun 1.5 hour jaunt [with both kids cuz we stupid] to our rental house to mop out the dog-stench with cold water and no electricity) and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Malachi so excited to go to the “bibwary” and then to the pound to see the kitties, but not the doggies because “I don’t wike it too woud!” And after some seriously good naps and some seriously good straightening of the cesspool, Naomi was happy from wake-up to bed-time and that hasn’t happened since…..her birth, maybe? We even watched a movie I like and I finished crocheting a hat that might help me bring in some bacon bits so it was actually a good day. I can’t stop hacking my lungs up and Naomi is still covered in a film of green but otherwise things are looking up. Malachi *might* (knockonwoodsayaprayercursethesnow) even get to go back to pre-school this week for the third time out of 9-freaking-days he could have gone (not bitter! maybealittle) so hip hip hooray!
Please come back. I promise never to be that disgusting again.