Oh the snotty tissues we sneeze...
We had all sorts of plans today. Well, actually just one big, exciting plan at least for the kids and I; Daddy's plan as always is to work work work. The big and exciting plan: Our first play date in our new town! The kids and I alike were thrilled for the opportunity to get out of the house and MEET people. People who we secretly (or maybe not-so-secretly) hope will become new friends.
But alas, a nasty little virus snuck its way into our familial doors during the night. And not really snuck, so much as hostilely took over leaving us with no choice but to surrender to its wearisome and snotty regimen. Result: No play date for us. *sniff sniff*
Poor little Elle has suffered more than the rest (meaning Mommy and Daddy suffered right along too). She was up through the night, tossing and turning, moaning and crying, fevering and wanting to be cuddled. It's hardly fair. To her, not me. The poor girl was sick with stomach flu just last week and right before that it was a yucky respiratory something-er-rather that lasted for weeks.
What on earth am I doing wrong here? Is this normal? Each time she coughed or cried out, the hypochondriac in me staked territorial rights...right next to the mommy guilt camp.
And why feel guilty? I mean, being sick is part of life, right? Hardly what I would consider blog-worthy. But three bouts of illness one right after the other???
Oh well...Instead of going to the park and making lifetime soul mates today, we are vegging in our jammies, sipping fluids and eating dry toast, and watching loads of PBS, Backyardigans, and Food Network. Might as well take full advantage of our quarantined state, right?