Tuesday, February 3, 2015
7 Days, 5 Kids, 1 Mom - Weekend!
He's on his way home!!!
He won't get here until tomorrow morning, after twenty four hours of travel, but it is such a relief to know he is on his way. I have missed him so much. I feel like Bonny without her Clyde. Lucy without Ricky. Wilma sans Fred.
Robert'n'Mary just belong together.
In other news, I survived the weekend. It remains to be seen if I will make it through the week unscathed by The Crud. This may be my last entry in the Captain's Log.
Saturday we celebrated my niece's third birthday at Chuck E Cheese. I didn't know if the kids would be well enough to go, but after a whole week of no vomit it seemed that we were past the danger.
"It seemed", being the operative phrase here . . .
When we got to the party, naturally the kids all scattered to play the arcade games, games that have been touched by little germy fingers and sneezed upon all day. You would think that I would have slathered everyone in hand sanitizer before they dug in to the pizza. That would be an incorrect assumption. I didn't even think about that until most of the pizza was already devoured. Too late!
We stayed in Oklahoma City with my mom that night. I laid out our church clothes for the next day. I climbed into bed next to Mi Madre. It was just like a slumber party!
The bathroom door slammed as we heard the unmistakeable sounds of a child getting violently sick. It was Dee. Poor little fella.
Well, that nixed church for the next day. And I really didn't want to travel with sick and potentially sick kids in the car. So, we stayed snug and cozy with mom all day. The kids have been complaining all week that they felt nauseous. It seemed most pronounced around mealtimes, which seemed most suspicious to me. If something fun was afoot, they were magically healed. But truth be told, I haven't been feeling well for nearly a month. And, no, it's NOT what you're thinking! So, we took Sunday easy. We watched Netflix and played a few games and went across the street to the park. The next morning we ladies went shopping with my aunt while the boys played Risk with their uncle. Everyone seemed fit as a fiddle. The boys were pleading that I take them to the Museum of Osteology in Moore. I felt like we should try to get home in time for karate. They insisted they were too sick for karate. I decided if they were too sick for karate, they were definitely too sick for the museum. So, we went home.
After supper, Dee and Cy asked if they could work on a special project for breakfast in the morning. Not wanting to squelch their creativity, I said yes. I thought they were just going to be looking over recipes, so I foolishly agreed to stay in my room and not peek at what they were doing. I took a shower. When I got out, I overheard Dee admonishing Cy, "We better get this cleaned up, mom should never know about this."
Since they were being "so responsible" to clean up and I really didn't want to know, I stayed in my room and read. After awhile, Cy popped in, something tightly clutched in his grimy paws.
"We made pancakes, mom! It's our own special recipe! Taste it!"
It tasted a lot like corn starch.
"What's in this, honey?"
"Oh, just flour, milk, vanilla, applesauce and corn starch."
Yep, it was cornstarchy all right and about three inches thick.
"Did you guys make a mess?"
"Well, yeah, but don't worry, we'll clean it up!"
Famous last words . . .
This is what I awoke to
I really wish I hadn't eaten that hand delivered pancake, now.
Just one more day and my Sweet Baboo will be home! I am trying valiantly to not get sick in the meantime.
Hang on, this might get bumpy . . .