Welcome to a mothering blog! Where our post titles are much too close to literalism for anyone's comfort!
Sorry. We've been wading through it (that part's not literal) lately.
Happily, I've just been feeling nauseous and carrying on.
The children, on the other hand, being at the concrete stage, have been acting on their nausea.
Every time we think we're done, we're woken up (again) by the tell-tale cough that proceeds the barfing.
And it's always the middle of the night. Which I should be grateful for, because it means the kids aren't getting dehydrated and miserable, because they can eat (and keep it down) during the day.
But you know it's bad when you decide what to make for supper based on what you think you can stomach seeing again at three in the morning.
Ick. Ook. Ack.
On the plus side, I'm reminded once again that I married a hero. Any man that spends 3 am to 4:30 am lying on a makeshift bed on the floor with his puking toddler and helping her get it in the bowl each time and soothing her through her distress because she's too little to understand why she's so miserable and THEN gets up a few hours later and goes to work in order to support his family? That's a hero.
So. All the homeschooling, writing, exercise and housekeeping resolutions I'd been working on? They're on hiatus while we recuperate. Sometimes you've just got to stop and attend to the situation on the ground.
And on the bed. And the blankets. And the pillows.
Peace of Christ to you,