I forgot to knock on wood

When you say “I don’t know how I would….” The universe seems to think it should let you figure out how you would.

At the library last Wednesday, one of the women from the mom’s group I hang out with told me that one of the other mom’s was sick with a stomach bug. We commented how that would be a difficult predicament to be in. I said “I don’t know how I would even take care of my kids if I felt really sick besides calling Michael and telling him to come home.”

On Wednesday night about 10 PM Morgan (who has never been sicker than a runny nose and cough) woke up throwing-up. Poor girl did not have any clue what was going on with her body. After completely stripping her, the bed, and cleaning the floor, we put her in the shower. She did enjoy the shower and did not want to get out. We felt that it was probably something she ate; so, we got her back into PJs and she went back to sleep. She slept for awhile, puked for a while, slept for a while, puked for a while… You get the idea. By 2 AM, she was all done puking and slept until around 8 or 8:30.

She seemed her normal self Thursday morning. So, we thought she was all better. We went to visit grandma, then she took a really long nap. On Friday morning we had our first hint that the throwing up episode may have been something more than what she ate. She had a temperature of 101. We put her in the car to let her sleep while we ran some errands in Lexington.

I know by this point of reading you’re wondering when the “Knock on Wood” part comes in. Well here it is. By the time we got back from Lexington both Michael and I were not feeling too well. Just a little upset to our stomachs. By 1:30, we were basically taking turns passing Kenna off on the other to run while we ran to the toilet. Heck, at one time Michael was in the bathroom and all I could do was get a bucket that we’d used for Morgan a couple of nights before, while holding the nursing Kenna in the sling.

So, here’s all I can say about taking care of your kids while you’re sick – Hope that they are willing to hang out in bed for the duration or are old enough to entertain themselves well. I wish that Morgan wasn’t sick, but her willingness to just lay in the bed with her pathetic parents for days was extremely helpful. Of course there was not much rest for the weary since she is quite a squirmer, but at least we didn’t have to chase her around the house.

During the entire time we were lounging in bed, there was a definite rule. If the covers were not completely covering Morgan we were to immediately remedy the situation. If we did not cover her we heard “Blankets Momma/Daddy, Blankets!” We realized the seriousness of her infatuation with the blankets when we were saying rounds of I love yous. “I love you Michael. I love you Kenna. I love you Morgan.” “I love you Kimberly, I love you Morgan, I love you Kenna.” To which Morgan responded “I love you blankets.” I cracked up, which got me in big trouble, but now I know where I rank.