You know you have troubles when your shopping trip looks something like this.
Unfortunately, I was awoken in the night by a crying baby, only to find poor Jesse sick as a dog.
I attended to the babe and came back to check on my hurling husband.
He said he wanted to die.
I told him it sure sounded like he was going to.
And once morning came, I found I had two additional sickies.
I put them in poop colored jammies, called work to tell them I would not be able to make it in tomorrow, and we've been hunkered down, surviving ever since.
{B}
{I}
{Jesse declined a photo, although his hair was very impressive today}
{I on the other hand will show you how it really is.
Ugly and tired. It's quite the combination.
But so far I'm not sick.
It'll probably come in a day or two}
Three sickies and a tired mama.
It smells like dirty diapers and clorox.
It looks like chaos and danger.
It sounds like moaning and the whirling of a washing machine.
It tastes like propel and pedialyte.
It feels like a quarantine.
And we hope it's over soon.
