It is rarely convenient to be sick, or to have one's children be sick. Yet, today is the first day of February school vacation, I have President's day off, and both boys have been lying on the couch all day, under the weather.
Tigger threw up last night. You don't want me to talk about what that was like, because he rarely does it and has little experience getting to the bathroom on time. Last night he was, shall we say, taken by surprise. So was the bathroom door.
The last time I've seen anything like that, TIgger was two and had been given some truly foul substance meant for ridding his little body of parasites that are common in Russia. Unfortunately, he had also just discovered cherry tomatoes, and the whole mess distinctly resembled that scene in the Witches of Eastwick where Veronica Cartwright is regurgitating cherries. Thankfully, I was not institutionalized as a result.
Pumpkin has barely moved from the big chair. He who is never not hungry, has barely eaten and is running a low grade fever. We are out of Tylenol. About a half an hour ago, he roused himself from his chair with the purpose of taking a nap. I can hear him reading to himself in the other room.
Piper left here this morning clearly not feeling well. I will be making chicken soup for dinner. We'll see if anybody eats anything at all.
I'd be panicking right about now, if I hadn't already been through this mess last week. The worst of it lasted under 12 hours, but I'm still not really 100%. In addition to being completely wiped out by whatever this virus is, I threw my back out throwing up.
I need a chiropractor, a massage therapist, and to start doing yoga. Oh, and time; I need time.
I am going into the office two days this week. I have a project I'd like to have prepared before the end of the day on Wednesday. We are going up to NH on Thursday, and somewhere in there we have to squeeze in two car inspections.
If you don't hear from me, call the garage.