Our house has been infected by the plague lately. The stomach-churning, carpet-staining, breakfast/lunch/dinner revisited plague.
Right now, it is currently waging war on the kids, who have been absolute troopers. Michael, at the young age of four has somehow mastered the art of running to use the toilet when the plague strikes. Bless him. I love him to pieces already, but I love him all the more that he has the wherewithall, even at 3 in the morning, to get the toilet.
Matthew is fifty-fifty. Instance number one was in his bed, over just about every stuffed animal he has, his blankets, the floor and all in hair. Then, he managed to make it another time to the toilet.
Molly just does her business wherever. Beds, train tables, people laps. Then when she's done, she smiles and laughs and carries on her sweet way.
In other words, the poor kids are troopers. This really is the most miserable kind of sickness. It's terrifying for a child to have such a violent thing happen to them. It's nasty from looks to taste, and, unlike the other kinds of illnesses which you can usually coddle with special meals or special drinks, everything you put into the kid (who usually has no appetite to begin with) must be taken with the cautionary tale of: "What ever goes down will probably come back up." So I'm not so inclined to give them their favorite foods because, if it's like my childhood, that's a quick way to make them not-so-favorite anymore.
So far, Michael and I have held our ground against this plague. Though, I tell you, every time one of the kids get sick, I always feel one step closer to succumbing to it myself. I can't quite pin down the incubation period of this bad boy because Michael picked up from who-knows-where, it lasted less than 12 hours, and then over 48 hours later, with no symptoms to speak of, Matthew got sick and then a few hours later Molly got sick.
....And then today, Michael got sick again! What?! What kind of sickness goes away for three and a half days and then offers one final (hopefully final) kick in the pants?
So, it's really going to be impossible for me to figure out when we're all in the clear.
All I know is that I hate seeing the kids weakened and sad, nervous when they cough because they don't know what's going to happen next. I can't stand their look of desperation when they are getting sick and know it's going to be bad but they can't stop it from happening. I just wish I could
fix it all for them.
And as much as juggling two kids instead of three at the same time, it breaks my heart when Matthew voluntarily toddles off to bed for a three hour nap, or when Michael doesn't want to play light sabers with his dad and just wants to go straight to bed.
So, we are in a bit of a quarantine here for the next few days hoping the plague will depart from our home and will stay away from Michael and I so that we have the stamina to deal with it.
In the meantime, we are trying to look on the positive side and are grateful that, though it's tough being in limbo with a house we really are hoping to buy, we are so glad this wave of the plague is taking place on brown ugly carpets of a rental rather than beautiful new carpets of our dream home.
