We've got our first illness of the season. I'm kind of relieved. People around us have been dropping like flies, and I've been waiting for one of our own to fall. The suspense was killing me. Anyway, that's why I'm posting again so soon. We've had a rough night, and I'm stalling getting our school day started. I'm just not feeling up to Latin and fractions quite yet.
Sleeping arrangements in our house are pretty fluid. Tess's crib has one side removed and is bumpered up against our king-sized bed, and she travels back and forth between the two at will during the night. Not on her own steam, of course. She expresses her will though, and I reach over and haul her to me. And Jack almost always ends up in our bed before morning, on his own steam. So, when he appeared around 11:30 last night, it was no surprise. I was nursing Tess, and he climbed between John and me and curled up, pressing his back into my back, his hot little feet against my legs, and we drifted back off to sleep with hardly a word. Just as I was drifting off again, a little alarm went off in my head...hot feet? It's 30 degrees outside, and we live in an old drafty house with hardwood floors. I reached over and felt him, and sure enough, he had a good fever going. I put Tess back in her crib and rolled over to Jack, felt his burning head again, tucked him in good, and snuggled him to me, wondering what he had, hoping it was anything but a stomach virus, and praying as I fell asleep again that the baby would at least be spared, and hopefully me too...because when Momma gets sick, the world ends.
A few minutes later, Jack half sat up in bed and started gagging. I tried to aim him off the bed as I woke up John with those words every parent loves to hear in the middle of the night, "HELP, he's puking!" This was necessary because while I was sandwiched into the middle of our giant family bed, John was on the end and could get up far more quickly. And he did, rushing Jack to the toilet, but for little good. It was too late.
We cleaned up the boy and the mess, and John went to sleep on the couch. Jack was upset, shaking with chills and muttering about the "yuck" of it all. Tess had woken up, but thankfully was happy enough to drift back to sleep with her mobile, so I snuggled Jack back into bed and prayed for uneventful night, and if not that, that at least both babies wouldn't need me at the same time.
The rest of the night was not too bad, really, compared to other stomach virus nights we've had. Jack had had a fairly small dinner several hours earlier, so that helped I'm sure. Last year Kain fell ill soon after two helpings of a big spaghetti dinner. I scrubbed a lot of spaghetti out of the floor that night. Jack didn't throw up again, but he slept fitfully, which means, of course, that I slept fitfully too. And he woke up early, which means, of course, that I woke up early too. He seems to feel pretty good this morning, so I'm waiting to see what the day holds. One thing is certain, we won't make it to mass.