Monday, December 30, 2013

Please, no pukies! Please, no pukies!

After seeing The Naptime Decorator's post today of her most popular posts of 2013, I curiously looked at my stats.  I didn't look very long before getting completely sidetracked by the few posts I never finished and never published.  

This post I stumbled on from earlier in the year reminded me why I sent Mike a couple of texts urging him to take precautions (wash hands a lot, shower as soon as he gets home) while he's playing poker today with friends who have been sick recently.  Influenza and the Norovirus are knocking family after family off their feet.  Am I paranoid?  Read on to see why! (There are no near-death experiences involved, just stuff that made me whine a bit.)

From January 2013

If Michael and Sophie remember anything specific about their first official gymnastics class from today it might be meeting their teacher Ms. Michelle, or swinging on the ropes and rings, or balancing or something like that.

Mike and I will remember it as the day after the stomach bug sent us straight to hell, how we watched both kids tumble like champs all the while hoping nobody, including ourselves, puked.  And nobody did!  Miraculous.

Sophie was sick earlier this week.  We came home from the zoo on Sunday after only seeing penguins, birds, and reptiles because about 20 minutes into the adventure Sophie wanted to be held and then asked to go home.  We knew that was a pretty bad sign.

On Monday my mom came, and kiddo seemed back to her playful self by the afternoon.  

However, on Tuesday morning, just as I was wrapping up my morning routine and putting my coat on for work, Sophie threw up.  Twice.  I was too late (by two minutes!) to put in for a substitute teacher in the online system, so I had to make phone calls, email sub plans, and once again re-adjust my vision for how this week would go.

By Wednesday morning Sophie didn't have a fever and hadn't puked in 24 hours, but Mike stayed home since she was still pretty lethargic.

My mom came on Thursday and emailed me that we might want to plan to be home on Friday as Sophie just still wasn't herself yet.  I called Mike, he prepared to be home on Friday just in case, and I made a mental note to dock Sophie's first year of allowance to cover one week of missed child care.

But since the kids had been well for over 24 hours and all looked good, they did go to child care on Friday. 

I, however, stayed home after enduring a night of my own stomach bug torture--it hit me around 11 PM Thursday night.  Amid my agony I took a mental account of this week's damage: two sick days, two days of sub plans, incomplete plans for next week to finish at home by Monday, and an out-of-control stack of ungraded work for me to return to. So not my style.

At least I got a day to myself to recover...

Except that by noon the child care center called to say Michael was flushed, sleepy, and just not himself.  He didn't have a fever or anything, but he fell asleep at the lunch table without eating anything.  I called Mike so we could figure out our game plan,  knowing from experience that our boy was sure to throw up at any second, and I was still in rough shape myself.

To my further dismay, Mike answered his phone from our driveway.  He had come home having gotten sick at work.  

So at this point, twelve hours into the stomach bug and feeling the need for rest and assistance myself, I was essentially a single parent with two kids to pick up, and lots of puking still on the horizon. I knew grandparent back-up was unavailable, so I did my best to take on the "a mom must do" mentality.

I'm pretty sure the kids' teachers felt sorry for me with my sick-day hair, no make-up, and shaky hands as I tried to put the kids' coats on.  They kindly helped me get the kids out the door, but I had to sit down in the lobby for a few minutes to settle my stomach.  Thankfully, Michael was willing and able to walk to the car along with Sophie, and she was relatively cooperative about climbing in the car herself (there's typically a little silliness involved).  

Once home, I rolled out the nap mats, turned on Little Einsteins, and we chilled like that well into the evening--with the exception of when Michael did in fact puke.

This is where the draft ended.  I don't recall much more, so I'm glad I documented that much as it reminds me, at least, why I feel something akin to PTSD when I hear of highly-contagious garbage going around.  It also brings to mind this post about the kids' first stomach bug.  Ominously, these two posts were written in the middle of the last two Januaries.

Alrightly, time to wash hands again, kids!!!

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