Recently our family faced the flu. Sounds pretty normal, but in a bigger family, it was like something took over our world.
It began innocently enough when my oldest daughter had a bit of a throat infection and my next daughter came to me and told me she was sick also. I assumed that perhaps it was a bit of trying to gain my attention, but I hugged her and told her to lie down for a bit to feel better. About five minutes later, she came down the stairs and promptly puked all over me and the oldest. And I mean all over. Down my hair, dripped down my pants, and somehow she continued to throw up. As I jumped up calling to the oldest to get a bowl, she says to me “What kind of bowl?”…. Really? Did she seriously ask me what the appropriate bowl was for puke??? Anyways, she got me the bowl, I rushed kid 2 up to the washroom to finish up there while I had a shower.
She was very sick. I am pretty sure it was this Norwalk thing. Not pretty.
And just as I thought maybe the light was at the end of the tunnel, kid number 3 started puking at about 2am. Lovely. Now the irony about her episode was that she was worried about making a mess with it… This is the child that single handedly destroys my whole home, but was gagging on her own puke because she didn’t want to make a mess? Apparently this flu brought with it a shift in the universe for a few days. So I ended up holding a towel for her to puke into while my half awake zombie of a husband ran to get a bucket.
At this stage, he also went down. Victim numero 3. Yuck. At this point I was aggressively cleaning all toilets (nobody likes to puke in a dirty toilet).
Then, the baby. Oy. The baby. She didn’t puke, but there is something truly vile about what comes into a diaper when an infant has the flu. This could seriously be used as a weapon. I wonder if the government has researched this? I have never met a man who could face a diaper with a straight face, let alone a flu diaper…
At some point in there (my memory seems to have wiped out the horror of that week), I went down for 12 hours also.
As I was sitting trying to rest I told my oldest “you wait, you’re next…” (because I am a mean, mean mom). 😉 She vehemently asserted that she was not going down. It became our little game.
Shockingly, she did avoid it. I don’t know how. She is my most stubborn child, so maybe she just decided not to. Who knows.
It’s funny how in moments like these it truly, honestly feels like you can’t get through. I know that other families go through it. I know people face FAR worse battles. But somehow, on day 3 of no sleep and all puke, it seems like the worse possible situation to everyone involved. It seems like it will never end. But it will, and it does. It always does. Even day 3 can’t last forever.
We are all more or less healthy now. I have caught up on some sleep. This weekend I am going on a married couples retreat with my husband. The kids are divided and conquered. And thank God, the puking has stopped.
Catholic Momma 