I'm so over all this

We are officially on day 10 of someone feeling sick, puny, irritable, stopped up or exhausted in our house and I've learned this one thing: Mommy, no matter how hard she tries to convince the herd, will never, ever, ever be as sick, feeling bad, tired, hurt, hungry or miserable as any other member of the household. EVER! She can be on her death bed and someone will undoubtedly expect her to get up for a snack, change a diaper, administer the barrage of medicines to others as well as herself and keep a smile on her face the whole time.

News Flash: June Cleaver does not live here. She never has and she never will.
Which means, after day 8 of being stuck in a house with two sick children rightly incapable of taking care of themselves and my health feeling "off" also, I had to start apologizing for my foul attitude. You say, "oh Kel, well that's a long time and it's expected to get a little testy." Yes, yes, you're right, but when the husband starts telling me to visit the other room to go have an attitude check and "go wherever you need to go to get in a better mood", you know it's gotten bad. It certainly didn't help that I woke up this morning looking like Quasimoto. One eye of mine is blood-shot red, puffy, oozing and scares children. No really, Nathan stares me down every time he gets close. I don't feel bad though, it probably came from him.

I should have known my nursing abilities were going to be stretched beyond comfortable limits when I was dating Jim in college. Not soon after we started dating I got sick. He so kindly called and offered to get me whatever I needed from the store. Soon after, I heard the doorbell ring. I slowly hoisted my achy body out of bed and opened the front door to find no one there, just a Publix bag of Gatorade and soup sitting on the welcome mat. A look to the right, a look to the left, stepping out past the bushes and a look back to the right showed my new beau sitting in his truck, with it running and poised to exit the parking lot quickly, with him peering through the passenger side window. He asked, "That was what you needed right?" I should have known then.
So my frustration has shifted to our Dr.'s office. I explained before that I wished we knew if this was H1N1 or not and now I hear stories of other pediatrician's offices here in town knowing within 10 minutes of a nose swab that someone has it or not and prescribes TamiFlu for the whole family. Frustration has reached an all-time high. I might be wrong here, but is it possible this adventure might have been truncated to, oh about, 5-6 days instead of 10 possibly 13-14 by the time this is all over? We were in the Dr.'s office last Tuesday AM, I mentioned the test then and was discouraged to pursue it. I swear.

Shall I focus on some good news? Katherine was well enough to go to school today. A sliver of normalcy, once again. 48 hours worth of antibiotics does wonders in little people. We are all officially on antibiotics, orally and ocular-ly. Laughter and squeals are more prevalent once more. We've received two nights of meals out of all this (I'll never turn down a meal) and IF this was H1N1, we now have antibodies built up for the next strain.

I'm so over all this.

Oink oink? Who knows!

It was our family's turn to get the yuckies, so since Sunday night we've been battling coughing, sneezing, sore throats, nausea, vomiting and fevers. I started to wonder so I read up on the symptoms of H1N1, and the kiddos matched it closely. So, when I asked the Doc on Tuesday if that was it, he said there were 3 other viruses very similar to it and there was no way they could tell (I'm pretty sure that translates into: We'd rather not do blood work on you to verify so we won't frighten you and tell you it is). So what good does getting all worked up and worried about this silly flu do you if you don't know you have it? I declare.

Daddy was kind enough to take off work today and take care of all three of us. After a couple eye rolls from me after us three being treated like we had leprosy, Daddy summed it up pretty well, "The old Jim would have moved out. Be thankful." And he's right.



Our sick children still LOVE playing with George. Getting a mouthful of cat hair is just one of the recreational hazards; and he's such a good sport about it all.


Monday, before realizing Katherine was sick also, we took a pretty long walk and she chose to push her baby stroller. Is it possible to go for a walk without getting all dolled up? I think not.