However, nobody avoids being sick forever, and this past week and a half has been our turn. Kathleen started off the fun two Saturdays ago, waking up with fever and other toilet-intensive issues. She stuck close to her bed for a few days and was reasonably recovered by Monday. Not that bad, I thought. But I hope she doesn't share.
By Tuesday afternoon, I was stuck in bed with Joseph. Brandon had to come home from work and make dinner while I lounged in my bed of pain. The next day school was cancelled, but I did manage pancakes for dinner. Thursday was a no-school day, too. By then I was trying really hard to feel guilty about abandoning my schol responsibilities, but I was just too tired and sick to care. Because did I mention that Joseph was sick too? And he has a tendency to need lots of diaper changes in the middle of the night. I finished recovering Sunday, but we were still up last night changing diapers.
Right on schedule, Sophia got ill Saturday night. I stayed home from church with her Sunday, but left her with a movie to go next door for a branch pot-luck. It's really nice to have church next door.
Last night about midnight, Edwin's high voice outside my door woke me up. "Dad, I have a problem. Dad, I have a problem. Dad, I have a problem." I stumbled out of my room and followed him into his to look for the disaster. He apologetically gestured to his sheets (and pillow and blankets), which I gathered up and stuck in the wash after plopping him on the toilet.
Brandon hunted up some pull-ups and helped me put new bedding on. With a parting discussion about passing gas vs. going to the the bathroom, we crawled back into bed. Brandon had fallen back asleep and I was on the edge when Edwin's voice returned. This time he had gotten the carpet, and only after inspecting his shorts we realized that the problem was coming out of the other end. So new sheets and back to bed - with a bowl.
At 1:30 Joseph woke up screaming to tell us he needed a diaper change.
So today I've been hanging out with Edwin and school has been called off again. After having dealt with a sick seven year-old, five year-old, three year-old, and one year-old, I think I can say I prefer the three year-old the least. He's potty trained, but I don't quite trust him, and he'd rather have my company and a movie.
Brandon's the last man standing. He claims he won't get sick. But we'll see.