Oh, those words will come back and bite you in the ass

Oh, how silly I am. In my last post on this blog, I typed the fateful words "Hopefully by next week we will all be back on schedule." How could I have been so stupid? That was like inviting trouble.

Saturday morning Blaine woke up with a mild fever. A little Motrin and he was fine for the rest of the day. Until bedtime that is, when the fever came back and gave us all a little reality check. Then, in the middle of the night, so technically Sunday, Kyra woke with a fever. Monday, Dave got the fever. So far I've been the only one spared the fever/runny nose/cough/general miserableness that has hit my house this week.

Blaine's fever finally broke on Wednesday, Kyra's on Thursday, and we are hoping Dave will take a turn for the better today. But they all have rivers of goo from the nose, they cough like barking seals and, generally feel like crap.

Even though I'm the "healthy" one in this scenario, I'm exhausted. The kids are whiney and very clingy (especially Dave - kidding!). This has proven to me something I already knew - that I am not cut out to be a nurse. After day 3 of the house of misery and sick, I was DONE. I dream of running away, to a place where everyone is happy and healthy and there are no noses to wipe, no fevers to medicate and no children who lie on the floor and cry outrageously because "I DON'T FEEL GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD". Sometimes I feel like lying down beside Blaine when he starts falling apart and crying with him, but that's not really in the job description of "mom". So, I pick him up, snuggle his feverish body against mine and tell him "it's ok".

Hopefully (knocking wood furiously here) next week will be better. Hopefully these words won't bite me in the ass like last week's did.