Revenge of the Black Death.

This was a week for the books.

One I do not care to repeat anytime soon.  Like ever.
Wee-eEEEe are never, EVER, ever....getting back together...

Child sick on the couch.  Puked on blankets washed and drying.

I have never handled more bodily fluids in my life than I have in these past few days.
I have never washed more laundry or scrubbed more floors in the course of a week than I have these past few days.
And I have never had my entire family taken out by some sort of virus all at the same time before, like this.

Other child sick on the couch.

It was honestly and truly rather epic.
I'm still wrapping my brain around the madness.

And to celebrate our survival and the fact that we altogether were feeling healthy all at the same time, and on the same day even - Kevy brought home pizza last night.  Which may have been a wee bit ambitious...as right before bed Ransom missed the potty with hurl episode number one....and then completely projectiled over the side of his bed in the middle of the night...which I promptly stepped in when I came down in a drunken haze to see why he was calling out for me at 1:00a.m.

Sick children on the mattress.  Change of scenery.

I'll leave the rest to your imagination...
Methinks he's had a bit of a relapse of sorts.

Needless to say, my dreams are filled with vomit.
My days are filled with vomit.
And for fear of my house smelling like perpetual vomit - yesterday, I did seven loads of sheets, blankets, towels, pillows, p.j.'s, and all sorts and sundry articles of clothing.  And then, I mopped my entire downstairs.  I honestly can't remember the last time I mopped my floors....so there's a perk.  I guess.

Sick child back on the couch.  Other semi-sick child soon to be sick again.

So, here's to today.
Here's to the weekend, and for taking things slow.
For coffee and Cribbage...and for maybe stepping outside into the real world for a few minutes.
Here's to bellies calming down, and potties staying bleached.
Here's to no more stepping in, or wiping up, or washing off, or gifting back vomit in any shape or form.
Here's to - maybe just maybe - a new week of health.
Cheers!

Fingers crossed....and puke pots close....