You know that picture at the top of this blog? Looks like a storm is either blowing in or blowing out? This past week and a half I haven't been able to tell which way the storm is moving either, which is probably because we're still smack in the middle of it. It's grown more and more difficult to find joy through all the clouds. To say that we're tired would be a massive understatement.
Daddy's little car-wash helper
Rather than catalog the unbelievable (even to us, and we're living it) list of ails that have struck each and every one of the six of us, I thought I'd share the few bright spots we've had in the last ten days.
Sandbox fun
Meanwhile, I'm waiting to hear from the hospital whether Little Boy's surgery will be postponed. He's running a low-grade fever, which usually means everything's off. It's too dangerous to do surgery when the body is fighting off infection somewhere. He could have just about anything. While I'm disappointed that all the work we've put in to get ready for this week is going to have be done over again, I'm more concerned that he's going to get as sick as Elli did last week. I should know within 24-36 hours. So far, so good -- he's puttering around only a little slower and fussier than normal.
The only time all weekend when Little Girl kept Tylenol
down and actually felt like playing.
I am headed to the pediatrician with Little Girl now. She's not doing well after three days of vomiting, no food, and fever. I pray that neither Scott nor I catch this -- I don't know how either one of us could manage on our own if the other got sick.
