It has been a rough week around here.
Buckets, towels, bleach, jammies, scrubbing, laundry, laundry and more laundry.
One week ago, the plague hit us. I was the first to go down, quickly followed by poor Mr. Smith.
He ended up in the ER to get a little rejuvenation from a lovely IV cocktail
and some better living through chemistry.
After a few days, Baby C got slammed during the night, but shook it off
like the Super Diva that she is.
Poor Grand Master H was the last man (read: super villain) standing.
And then there were none.
My precious boy ended up in the ER yesterday as well. Luckily he did not require an IV and the chemistry was all that was necessary to quell the storm.
As the Zofran eased his nausea and non-stop vomiting, he perked up.
I could see glimmers of my boy returning.
"Mommy, where is that guy going?"
"What does he do?"
"Why are we waiting here?"
"Can we go home now?"
"I want to go home and have Goldfish."
"Do they have anything here to eat?"
"Hello, I'm STARVING over here!"
Today, he is like a bright, bouncy shiny penny. He is hopping up and down and
generating his usual random comments.
I could not be more pleased.
I missed my jumping little boy.
January 11: Warm Your Heart
January 12: Signs of Life
January 13: Controlled Chaos
Lego sculpture by Grand Master H and Famous Baby C currently on exhibit in the
No Monsters Allowed Art Museum
January 14: Beyond the Chill
And then this happened.
And Grand Master H sat in the back seat, happily devouring his cherry popsicle,
chattering about his adventure.
So, I pulled over and took some photos of the sky show.
When I returned to the car, H asked, "Well, how did it go?"
"It went really well, sweetie."
And everyone lived happily ever after.