I feel like poo. My son had a bit of a stomach bug on Sunday, only then we didn’t think it was a bug. We figured he swallowed something we didn’t get to in time and he began throwing everything up. Nothing horrible, just clear, spit-like vomit. We gave him a small dose of pepto, and he was fine on Monday morning. Fast forward to Monday afternoon. I started feeling queasy. All afternoon I was running back and forth to the bathroom. I couldn’t reach my husband because apparently he as going through the same thing and had gone home. I had to wait ‘til quitting time since I’m still on pro-fucking-bation at the new job. I went home and had a little bit of noodles. Gave the rest to the kids. My son turned his bowl upside down and flung it across the kitchen. Cute. But I wasn’t in the mood. I turned in about 9. Middle of the night, husband and I are taking turns in the bathroom, vomiting and the whole bit. Then daughter woke up. She did this the night before as well and we brought her into our bed. She was all over the place, laying on me, laying on him, her feet and butt in my face. I ate some bread, drank some pedialyte and started feeling better. She and I slept the rest of the night on the sofa.

Meanwhile this morning, husband is still sick and stayed home from work. Son woke up all bright-eyed and bushy tailed after a great 11 hours of sleep. I took them to daycare. He cried and slapped the teacher.

No writing to speak of, too sick, too tired. But my head aches from new ideas for the fiction book trying to fight their way out. So, I’m jotting those down as they come.


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