A fierce and ghastly storm hit our household over the weekend. And we didn't see it coming AT ALL. Perhaps we should've. Ethan was sent home at the end of the day on Friday, which is not a strange occurrence. Anyone with children in daycare or preschool knows the dreaded phone call. It's the one that pulls you from work to pick your child up, who inevitably will be completely fine by the time you get them home, and forces you into creative planning since your child can't return for 24 hrs. Luckily, we thought, this happened on a Friday, so no creative planning or missed work required. Unluckily, we realized, he actually had a stomach bug. Complete with vomit in the car seat.
Poor little buddy, he was pitiful for a couple of hours, but then seemed to perk right up. He was even asking for food. We stuck to the bland basics, and all seemed fine. Saturday was good. I cooked a hearty dinner and even cooked food for a planned Sunday outing. We watched a movie together and snuggled in, and all was good. Until 3:30 am.
Awakened by a loud and pained shout from Vern, I jumped out of bed. Not quite sure what was being shouted or what was happening, I ran into the hallway to see Zack and Vern standing in front of Zack's room, which I was able to assess in a quick glance was covered in puke. Hearty dinner had been hurled. From near to far, from here to there, there was upchuck everywhere.
Within a few short minutes, I, too, was running for the bathroom, then Vern, then Ryan. It was not unlike the Stand By Me Barforama. By 6 am, every body in the house had been affected. Everybody that is, except for Ethan, who was sleeping soundly. Sunday was most definitely NOT a fun day. In fact, we are all still in recovery. Not as resilient as our little guy, it is taking much longer than a couple of hours to shake this thing.
Nothing better to start the holiday week, right? Well, on the plus side, at least I dropped a couple of pounds to make room for Thanksgiving Day's calorie load. See, there is a silver lining.
Poor little buddy, he was pitiful for a couple of hours, but then seemed to perk right up. He was even asking for food. We stuck to the bland basics, and all seemed fine. Saturday was good. I cooked a hearty dinner and even cooked food for a planned Sunday outing. We watched a movie together and snuggled in, and all was good. Until 3:30 am.
Awakened by a loud and pained shout from Vern, I jumped out of bed. Not quite sure what was being shouted or what was happening, I ran into the hallway to see Zack and Vern standing in front of Zack's room, which I was able to assess in a quick glance was covered in puke. Hearty dinner had been hurled. From near to far, from here to there, there was upchuck everywhere.
Within a few short minutes, I, too, was running for the bathroom, then Vern, then Ryan. It was not unlike the Stand By Me Barforama. By 6 am, every body in the house had been affected. Everybody that is, except for Ethan, who was sleeping soundly. Sunday was most definitely NOT a fun day. In fact, we are all still in recovery. Not as resilient as our little guy, it is taking much longer than a couple of hours to shake this thing.
Nothing better to start the holiday week, right? Well, on the plus side, at least I dropped a couple of pounds to make room for Thanksgiving Day's calorie load. See, there is a silver lining.