I just want to be sick for once. Or not.

It’s the most wonderful tiiiiiiime of the yeeeeeaaarrrr!”   Sing it with me!

The most wonderful time of the year being that time in which every living creature in your household gets some disease or another and you find yourself walking around with tissues stuffed in your pockets, gas mask on your face, and a can of Lysol tucked into the waistband of your pajamas that you haven’t had time to change out of because you’re too busy taking temperatures/wiping noses/cleaning vomit.

First it was Claire with a tummy ache. Then that very same night, Zoe with a very sudden, snot-heavy cold.

The tummy bug was a 24 hour gig, keeping her home while Rachel went to school. But then at least we got to watch Tangled while she was gone since she hates that movie. Sick day win!

By Friday, Zoe still wasn’t any better, so I hauled all the kids to the doctor. Taking my kids to the doctor is like a miracle cure — they’re dying at home, but as soon as they walk in that door there isn’t a damn thing wrong with them. So keeping this in mind, I semi ignored Rachel’s claims later in the afternoon that she now was sporting a tummy ache and “had to go to the doctor.” I mean, come on. Cry for attention much?

But the half assed complaints and the untouched bowl of pretzels next to her bothered me enough to do some half assed preparations and spread a towel on the floor beneath the couch where she was sitting.

And then she vomited on the couch. But then again on my vomit ready towel, so kind of a win?

Fast forward a few days later, when I turned around to catch Zoe spewing milk-vomit {because milk makes up 98% of her diet} a la Linda Blair. Would it ever end??? How much vomit can a carpet indeed take? Would my nose hairs ever grow back from being burned off by the stench?

As the weekend approached after two weeks of vomit and snot, I was dying for a break. Sick days are awesome because all anyone wants to do is sit around and watch movies, but they’re still exhausting what with the copious amounts of hand washing, carpet scrubbing, and vomit laundry.

And then… Christian got sick, and my break was over before it even began. So I doted on him, took his temperature, made him soup, but did NOT do his vomit laundry since he had the good sense to take that show to the toilet where it belongs.

By now I reached a breaking point where getting sick started to look really good. Like a flu-cation. Only smellier.

And I began to think, “When is it MY turn dammit? When do *I* get to sit around, watching movies and having people dote on ME? Who is going to do MY vomit laundry???”

I fantasized about lolling around in my cozy bed, drifting in and out of consciousness from a combination of Tylenol PM and lack of sufficient nutrients, temporarily shirking my usual responsibilities onto my loving husband.

And then my wish came true. The nausea crept up on my in the middle of the night. Only the next morning I didn’t get to loll around in bed. It was our last day of mother’s day out and the day of the girls’ Christmas program and party. I wasn’t feeling nauseous, but incredibly tired, sluggish, and just plain like crap. I  couldn’t even stomach my coffee.

But I had to make lunches. I had to get everyone dressed and ready to go. After drop off I had to go buy and wrap two books that I forgot for the class book exchange and juice boxes that I forgot for the class party {see, I’m a preschool mom fail even when I’m not sick}. I had to cut and package homemade fudge for the teacher and director. I had to NOT forget that Zoe was still with me and that she like maybe needed to eat lunch or something.

As the morning wore on, the coffee hungry gnomes in my head started pounding on the inside of my skull in their attempts to mine any scrap of caffeine they could find. Visions of Starbucks started dancing in my head, quickly followed by lurches in my stomach.

I was able to put on a happy face for the program and the party, because seriously, it was adorable and I didn’t want to miss it for the world. But as soon as we got home and put Zoe to bed, I popped in a movie and curled up in a fetal position on the couch, drifting in and out of consciousness as my stomach turned and my head pounded. My comatose like state was frequently interrupted by the likes of “Mommmyyyy! I hafta go pottyyyyyyyy!” or the occasional skirmish over someone standing in front of the TV and blocking the precious Lightening McQueen.

“Girls, I need you to behave,” I croaked, as I broke up a minor tussle, trying not to let my inability to stand upright show. “Mommy’s very sick.” The lovely shade of green on my face was very convincing. My head exploded every time I blinked.

Sick mom

After only one text that may or may not have included the words “I’M DYING,” Christian came home early, and I immediately went to bed. But there was still no restful lolling. I moaned and groaned my way through a series of head pounding short naps while he got the kids fed, bathed, and to bed. He took my temperature, doted on me, and made me soup that I couldn’t eat. He cheered me on while I made feeble, yet unsuccessful attempts to go rid my body of the vile substances brewing in my stomach. I despise vomiting, more than your average vomit hater, and I will go to almost ANY lengths to avoid having to kneel on front of a toilet and spew up yesterday’s lunch. But in this case, I tried, and failed. So I continued to suffer.

And then I passed out from that sought after aforementioned combination of Tylenol PM and lack of sufficient nutrients. I woke in the morning feeling fresh as a spring daisy, with nary a trace of the sickness left in my body. And I couldn’t have been happier.

So the next time my kids and husband are sick and you start to sense that twinge of jealousy in my voice, slap me. Hard enough to remind of of the hammering, caffeine addicted gnomes in my head that were clearly worse than any vomiting.

Or at least make me chug my coffee anyway, because as long as I absorb the good stuff, who cares if it comes back up, right?

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  1. It’s just possible that the vomit laundry was powerful enough to drive the preschool gift exchange from your head. I think you can be forgiven for that. Really NOT a mom fail.

  2. Oof, yuck! I’m glad it went away in a day for you, though. D came down with hand, foot, and mouth disease 2 weekends ago, then a cough and snot-filled cold, and now I have the most ridiculous cold ever. Fortunately she is much better now, but I need to get some Sudafed to clear this crap out of my head!

    1. Oh no! That’s how the flu was with us last spring. Everyone got sick at least once, some twice. It just kept going around and around. Hope you feel better soon!

  3. I hate throwing up too. It’s a weird phobia of mine. I think I’ve learned that most moms don’t get sick days–at least not like everyone else does. Sorry you’ve been so bogged down in illness.

  4. This was a good reminder! My husband wanted to throw away my Felicity DVD collection but I told him he could never do such a thing! I told him I was holding on to them for the day I was really sick. Reading your post reminds me that if I’m really sick, I won’t want to watch Felicity! Ugh. Being sick bites. 🙁

    1. You may not want to watch it when you’re sick, but don’t throw away Felicity! It’s late 90s and early 2000s gold, I tell you. And I’m so glad I’m not the only one who was hooked on that show.

  5. I want my money back. This is not the direction of the story that I envisioned after reading the teaser title

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