‘Tis the Season (to come down with every disease known to man)

School nurse called me yesterday morning bright and early with stunning news: “Merrick is sitting here in my office with pink eye.”

Ain’t nobody got time fo dat.

Also? Nobody got time for Mia’s acid reflux problems and her random vomiting. Nor do they have time for what appears to be Merrick’s second go-around with the dreaded stomach bug. I’m ready to sue Lysol, Germ-X, and Clorox Wipes, because I use all that crap pretty religiously and it clearly isn’t working.

Cheyenne’s probably going to start walking around in a hazmat suit just so she can make it through semester finals without getting down with the sickness.

Mia made it to school today. A goopy-eyed Merrick is home with a poor tender tummy that just won’t stop throwing up. (Him in the most tearful, pitiful little voice this morning: “I feel like I’m going to die!”)

He hates the medicated eye-drops so much–I have to hold him down and pry his eyelids open. He screams bloody murder like I’ve never heard him do before, and that’s saying a lot because he’s pretty prolific when it comes to screaming bloody murder.

And? I started a job last week. I stock vending machines and sell hamburgers in a factory break room. It’s not glamorous but the hours are awesome and the customers are friendly. Plus the people I work for are our good friends, and their family is ah-mazing. These are the very same friends that encouraged me to sell my paintings and helped me with my art booth last spring; the same friends who gave me a plane ticket to Florida once to see my sister. The same friends who got Caleb and I started on a wicked-effective diet and exercise program that eventually helped me lose 40 pounds. The same friends who convinced me that taking care of pigs for a week was a good idea. The same friends who’ve  piqued our interest in country living and The Walking Dead.

The least I can do for them is nurse all my sick children back to health so I can show up to work on a regular basis.

But for now, I’m going to wash the barf smell out of everything we own, and then go torture my kid with eye-drops.

You guys have an awesome weekend.


About Toni

Mom. Wife. Artist. I take care of the kids and pretend to clean sometimes. I can cook spagetti and I have never been arrested. View all posts by Toni

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