This past Monday, I was in a funk. The kids were starting to irritate me. I had things to get done, the house was messy, so I decided to do something fun and spontaneous to break out. I suggested to Bryan that we grab drive-through and go look at lights. It was fun and good. But Monday night was not. Midnight had us awakening to sounds of crying and vomiting from Micah. After round two, we made him a little bed in our bathroom and continued our rounds of clean up. He puked on so, so many blankets. The next day, he and we were completely exhausted, but Micah started to get slowly better.
I was really, really hoping that his chicken nuggets were bad, but no. Wednesday night, technically very early Christmas Eve, both Bryan and Hannah succumbed. Emma came up the next morning and told me, “Hannah threw up, but we got Daddy to take care if it because he was already sick. And Daddy throws up really loud.”
Hannah seemed fine between bouts of sickness.
“Mom, I just threw up my Starburst.”
“Why did you eat your Starburst?”
“I thought I was fine”
but Bryan did not. Probably because of lack of sleep, the virus pretty much killed him for two days.
We did, however, get presents opened. Everyone received things that they really enjoyed and everyone enjoyed giving their gifts. Micah was very excited to open his presents, but he tried really hard to wait for his turn, most of the time.
With Micah feeling better and Emma not yet sick, everyone generously agreed to let me go to church which was the one thing I wanted to do this year. So we popped in a movie and Isaiah and I went to church where I sequestered myself in the back like a leper. We snuck into the back of the sanctuary for the candlelight portion of the service, and I loved watching Isaiah’s little head bob back and forth as he took in all the lights. But when I got home, it was clear that Emma has taken a turn for the worse. After she threw up, I made a little bed for her in a bathroom. Then I spent all night being awoken by poor Emma, Isaiah, and early the next morning by an overly excited Micah. By midmorning on Christmas, I felt quite yucky, but I never did throw up, something I credit to either the probiotics I take or nursing hormones. That night, people feasted on pasta or rice because still queasy stomachs weren’t having much else. Luckily, Bryan had bounced back just enough so that I could nap and rest a bit.
Saturday dawned with everyone feeling much, much better but still tired. We did some cleaning and some resting, then I overly ambitiously cooked up our Christmas dinner. Despite a meltdown by Micah over our choice of Christmas music
Micah yelling at Amazon Echo, “No, Lexa, don’t play that song!”
dinner was tasty, and we closed out another wondrous Christmas season. Although no one puked in public, spending 2 of the last 3 Christmases with stomach bugs is really putting a damper on my ability to make magical family memories. I’m hanging big hopes on New Year’s this year.
How was your Christmas? Please tell me someone had fun this year.