There has not been a dull moment in this house since May 26.
That was the day E got the stomach flu. Since we just went through this in February, this was me:
It lasted a week. I mean, the diarrhea and the vomiting and the declining energy and the fussiness lasted a WEEK. We made a trip to urgent care because she was dehydrated and lethargic and couldn’t hold anything down. Meanwhile, she was vomiting all over her bedding and her clothes and our washing machine F&*#ING BROKE. Then she started to seem better, and she was eating again and more energized, and we dropped an absurd amount of money on a new washing machine, and then…
I got sick. A week and a half ago I came down with my own stomach flu, and guess who got sick one day later? Guess who got sick AGAIN one day later?
I was sick for a week and E was sick for another week. We both started to feel better on the exact same day and it was like the sun was brighter and the birds were singing and there were little harps playing and sparkles all around us.
Now, two days later, E has her top two incisors coming in. They’re messing with her sleep. She doesn’t want to eat anything but applesauce.
And did I mention my husband is having shoulder surgery today?
Like, I’m on the verge of a breakdown. This is too much for three weeks. I know I’ll come out stronger from it all in the long run, but CHEESUS.
I think I’ve earned the right to eat an entire cake all by myself. In one sitting.