The Plague

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.

"I Like Everybody"

Every night we get the boys out of their beds to do one last pit stop to get them through the night. Of course, the boys are asleep and conduct all their business while asleep, but every once in a while they arise out of consciousness just enough to give us a preview of what was on the brink of their dreams.


Tonight, Matthew declared with his eyes closed and with legs too sleepy to stand, "I like everybody."

I just love that kid. he really does like everybody.


And I really do think everybody likes him. (Or at least they should).

Michael's Villain

It's Killer Croc!

She Does Everything Like A Girl

While the boys lollop about, even in their sleep, Molly remains the ever delicate little lady, without even being conscious of it.

Notice the might-as-well-have-been posed legs, and the ever-so-sweet hand on her dolly. What a girl.

The Artist

I really must make sure all markers are out of the boys' bedroom before Matthew wakes up in the morning.

"...She knows how to use them"

I couldn't resist posting pictures of her very plentiful, very kissable gams especially when she put them on display so nicely.

An Image I Won't Forget for A Long Time

This morning, I was awoken by the sound of one of the boys in the bathroom taking care of his business.  It was Matthew.

But Matthew, typically pretty proficient at this, was taking a long time, and I eventually heard that he was having a hard time flushing the toilet. Sounds like he maybe went overboard with the toilet paper.

But instead of being daunted by the rising water levels of the toilet or fretting that things weren't going his way, I heard new sounds coming from the bathroom as I was getting up to offer assistance: the plunger.

I open the door and what do I see, but Matthew, naked down to his socks standing on the step stool plunging away at that toilet.

This is typical of Matthew. He is Mr. Initiative. Matthew doesn't get overwhelmed or discouraged. If something stands in his way, he just overcomes it. He doesn't whine or complain if something needs fixing. He just fixes it. He has heart. He's an amazing boy who will plow through whatever obstacles lie ahead of him.

So, as the evening is upon us, I will go to bed thinking about the same image to which I woke up: my naked little go-getter with a plunger in his hand smiling to myself knowing that this little boy will do anything he puts his mind to in life.