Sick Day

My last post was about Marta acting out-of-sorts and me waiting the long, scary wait for the throw-up in the crib. And now I'm waiting even harder, if you can do that, because I spent my entire day throwing up and doing another unpleasant act of stomach flu-dom. At the same time, no less. It was a messy day.

None of my family members are sick yet, so I can only hope that God is sparing them and not actually getting my illness out of the way so I'm healthy enough and have already been exposed to the virus so I can take care of the rest of them. 

It's not that I am so afraid of a little kid vomit. It's that I'm terrified of the overnight kid vomit. The sheets, the pajamas, the face/hair/hands/ears/neck being coated and the babies unable to open their eyes because the last thing they knew they were sleeping and then suddenly they're letting loose in every direction, not knowing to turn their heads, and now have their eyes covered in throw-up.

I seem to be OK now, after a non-fun day of laying in bed while my saintly mother-in-law took care of the children here at the house, risking her own good health.

Oddly enough, the entire time I was laying in bed I was thinking about my friend Amy, who was on left-side-only bedrest for three months while pregnant with her twins three years ago. I was sore from laying in bed for three hours! I know it sounds so pitiful, poor Lisa who never gets any sleep was sore from sleeping so much. That's not what I mean; I enjoyed the sleep and was grateful for it. But sheesh, you'd think I never spent any time snoozing, that's all. Maybe it's another sign from God -- I need to sleep much, much more often, so when I'm bed-ridden I will enjoy it fully.