Tuesday night, this post by Heather B got the two of us texting all nostalgically about Times My Kids Threw Up. (Yes, seriously. She managed to make my vomiting children sound endearing. Kind of.)
And I helpfully tossed in a new anecdote: Ike was sick on Saturday night, alllll night, and around 4 am I basically let him barf directly into my hands because I was out of towels.
(MY OVERSHARING KNOWS NO TECHNOLOGICAL BOUNDARIES OR LIMITS.)
I washed my hands afterwards (promise), but it was all for naught. Just hours after our conversation I came down with the bug myself. Hard. Bad. Indecent in every way. To the point where you're sick with dehydration but even the tiniest sip of water won't stay down.
(Though does anybody else have a problem with an inability to "sip" water when you're really, really thirsty? I kept telling myself "just a sip, just a sip!" because I knew my stomach was still in full rebellion mode, but then the second the water touched my parched tongue I was all, "GLOBBLE GULP MARRRRRRRRGHH SLARP.")
(It's okay if it's just me. I know. I...know.)
Anyway, I spent the entire day in bed yesterday. Around 8:30 am I sent a few nonsensical texts to people to explain that I would not be working at all that day, and I may have called at least one person by the wrong name. I mumbled something to Jason about the sitter being here until lunchtime and then it's ALL YOU BUDDY.
Then I went back to sleep until noon.
At that point I attempted to suck on some ice chips while weakly fending off the affections of my two youngest children. Back to sleep until four, when it was Noah's turn to be very concerned about me in the loudest, most exhuberantly physical way possible. Around six I finally graduated to real water and chicken broth. By nine I felt brave enough to turn on the TV, even if there was a high chance of seeing some food-related advertisments or SNL's 4,202,230th re-run of the Schweddy Balls holiday sketch.
Around two in the morning, it was Ezra's turn to start puking. OH COME ON.
Luckily by then I felt strong enough to help Jason change sheets. Though by 7:15 we were officially Out Of Clean Sheets.
He's currently on the couch watching Sprout and sucking on ice chips. The usual.
Cheers! Hopefully I can write more later when no one is yakking anymore.
(So like...March, then.)