So, I've been off the grid a few days. God has a way of slowing us down when life gets too hectic. I know in my heart He loves me, and I'm eternally grateful. It's by no means my place to complain...but Lord...did it have to be a stomach virus? And...did it have to hit the whole family?
Yes, we're all recovered now. Mrs. Tony C was hit first this past weekend. Well actually, the toddler hadn't been right on the discharging end of things for a few days prior, so we'll blame her for spreading disease and take the Randy Newman approach that it must be the shortest person in the bunch to blame...which in our family is a close race even with an 18 month old.
Next hit was the teenager. As I stated, we've been very busy for several weeks, maybe months. After school, she's been involved in track and soccer, in addition to practicing for our Easter drama at church. This weekend, a Charlotte soccer tournament. Time of impact...parking lot of TGI Fridays immediately after dinner on Saturday. I'm sure the people sitting on the other side of that window experienced a sudden loss of appetite.
I'm with the teenager, a medical enigma in terms of sheer volume when it comes to regurgitation, and feeling really bad for her. She lives for these tournaments and this one is over for her at this point. Mom is home sick with the toddler who is full tilt and not missing a beat, and I feel even worse for her. I'm awake, listening and watching, early Sunday morning each time a new bout of ralphing comes over my little Mia Hamm, when I get that distinct rumbling in the lower stomach/upper bowel...
Why did I have the Cobb salad? Why??!! A 5:30 pm dinner of salad is well past processing in eleven hours...even the bacon bits. Yet, it's still not far enough along in the tract for a more...shall we say...natural departure. It's salad...that's the point. This is not going to be pleasant, as if it ever actually is. I propose a new axiom: Having something available to come back up when your stomach is in revolt is much better than the alternative despite the bad aftertaste.
I'll spare you any additional details (and there are a few rather humiliating ones) to get to the point where we are all home and resting with one exception...my superhero wife who is chasing the little Tasmanian Devil. God blessed me with a caring, loving wife who forbade me from using man's all-purpose tool (aka duct tape) to keep the little...excuse me...the twinkle of my eye...in one stinking place.
God really does love me, and I thank Him for Mrs. Tony C...and so should the toddler.
One side note of interest (at least for me), while laid up recovering, I watched a few familiar shows with the little one. Typically after work each day, I learn a little Spanish with Dora and Diego and now a little Chinese on Ni Hao, Kai-lan...oh and don't forget sign language on Blue's Clues. She seemed very excited when the show Yo Gabba Gabba came on and started dancing around (duct tape, where's my...) so I watched and was excited it was all in English...and what the...what is that character in the back dancing around?
We are seriously starting to monitor what the toddler watches on TV...