I don't do puke. I don't like to puke. I don't like to clean up anyone else's puke. I don't like talking about puke, and if you puked anytime in the last 45-90 days, I would rather you not come within 200 feet of me or my family. I am THAT freaked out by it. So when I woke up at 2:30 am last Saturday morning hugging the porcelain thrown, I could have sworn I was in the depths of Hell. That was, until, my sweet Logan woke 10 minutes later heaving all over his PBK quilt. We had made it 3 years and almost 3 months with a child and NO barf. I suppose our luck had ran out. Logan, thankfully, was perky and cool by late Saturday. I however, was barely hanging on to the thread of life for days. Holy crap.
So when we had gone a whole FREAKING WEEK with NOTHING.... I thought we were more than in the clear. 'Fraid not, my friends. Friday night into Saturday, my sweet little baby Parker refused to eat, and after a 12 hour hunger strike, introduced us to baby vomit. Sigh... So here we are, Monday, and Parker and Cooper are still fighting this virus and I am on the verge of a breakdown. Auto-pilot all the way, cleaning, washing, laundry, oh, have I mentioned the LAUNDRY! The freaking laundry! I cannot begin to imagine our water bill. I am So. Done.
But you know what makes me laugh? Oh man... you all thought I was psychotic about germs before... Hahahahahahahahahaha! Oh my peeps, you ain't seen nothing yet. I swear to all that is Holy that I will do everything in my power to never get anything like this again!
I hope they're feeling better this morning! I know when Jack was sick I was very thankful for hardwood floors. It is messy!
ReplyDeleteThanks Linds! Parker managed to hit the carpet and fabric chair each time. We have since covered the chair in towels until we are certain this is gone! They just give you very little warning!
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