It's pretty awesome when you take your kids to a going away party and your son throws up in the middle of the kitchen in front of everyone. Yep. Awesome.
It was a long, long night of the flu, sleeping mostly on the floor of Ivar's room hearing him moan, "Mom, I need you."
Wednesday night Ivar started back up again. Apparently a relapse. The only perk of this round is that he learned my lingo and would tell me each time, "Mom, take this bowl. It's grody." His saying grody made me happy to know him.
Not to be left out, Elsie woke up at one in the morning with the flu too. Thank God for Rory. I thought I was going to die.
We've been washing bedding all week, snuggling on the couch while watching tv, eating cinnamon toast and apple sauce. We're going to survive, but this was a doozy. (And so far, all friends with us on Monday are still feeling fine. Phew.)
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