Y is for Yuck

Things were weird this week. Bill, who is never sick with anything more than a cold, was sick. I mean the baaaad kind of sick. "I feel like someone punched me in the gut" he tells me and then it hit him. Not the 24 hour mystery stomach virus but the three to five day torture round. Instantaneously, I was back to being a single parent a lot quicker than I'd expected. He spent two days in bed, the hours he wasn't at work, that is. He survived. I survived and most importantly, the kids survived.

Friday night my darling children were their somewhat normal monstrous selves when it came time to have dinner. "No popcorn", I threatened. Popcorn and movie night is a big deal come Fridays. They didn't care. They spun out of control across the family room, doing sommersaults and dancing to music no one heard but them.

2:45am Saturday. I heard THE cry. The one that makes you jolt awake, knowing that your kid just rejected everything they ate within the last six hours. Great. I let Bill sleep and took care of Leah and her sheets by myself. I cleaned her up, calmed her down and put her back to bed at 3:00.

3:15am. Wave number 2. Crap. Again, I let Bill sleep. There are times during his sleep cycle when he's absolutely useless and I pray he's never caught by the enemy. He'd give away all of our secrets, including my grandma's famous chocolate chip pie recipe. It was just easier to do this on my own.

I stayed up with her until 4-something, going in and out of sleep with her on my chest. She woke up again at six, this time just ready to be up. I passed the baton to my husband and slept until 10am, something I haven't done in at least five years.

My baby was miserable. Her longest awake period on Saturday was an hour and a half and that was from the time she woke up until nearly 8am. She'd wake up in spurts, sometimes just long enough to shift on the couch, others, for a sip of water. She'd wake up to be sick again, cry and need more comforting. Later in the day, she woke up and asked for french fries. Later again, she popped up and said she wanted to color. She didn't really want any of these things, seeing as how she'd fall back asleep within seconds of her request.

No Easter dress and hat for Leah on Sunday. She stayed in pj's with daddy while Trey and I ventured off to our usual Sunday spot.

She’s on the mend, fortunately. She still wants french fries. She still wants to color. She’s chasing the bunnies out of our yard. I’m hoping she keeps her meal in her belly so I can go to work in the morning. I’m hoping Trey and I fend off whatever voodoo germs that are floating around our home. I can deal with a sick hubby. I’ll complain about it, but I can live with it. I can live with sick kids. It’s a good excuse to watch cartoons all day. But me? Who picks up the slack when mom is down and dad can’t take sick days? Good thing I bought the big pack of Airborne at Costco.