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Well, it’s that time a year again. Nope, not talking about Christmas as that’s not on my mind until December 1st. Do I believe it’s wrong to think about Christmas before December? No. I just don’t want the extra thoughts that the holidays bring marching around my brain like the nutcracker. I’m good. Anyway… I’m referring to the wonderful season known as FLU season! What a joyous time of the year. If you haven’t guessed yet, the stomach flu hit my house. More specifically, it surrounded my house, took it over and left no prisoners.

The littlest (known now as ‘patient zero’) had it first. After spending hours getting puked on by a toddler who refused to use a bucket and changing jammies and bedding multiple times, I figured I was in the home clear. Almost 24 hours had passed by and I hadn’t had symptoms yet. I put the kids to bed and celebrated my swift escape from the flu with a cocky glass of wine. Want to know what ruins a great glass of Moscato…or Moscato forever? Throwing it up. Yep…that’ll do it.

Composing myself, I thought, “well, at least the 5-year-old didn’t get it”. That’s when a slight cry came from her room, followed by the sound of a lot of vomit hitting her carpet. Now, I was in rough shape and crippled on the bathroom floor while my kid was throwing up everywhere. My husband was out of town and it wasn’t an ideal situation. What did I do? I did what any strong and wise mother and adult would do. I found the energy to get off of the floor, sucked up the pain and…called my mommy. Yeah, that’s right. She came over, took care of the kid all night so I could go back to my agony on the bathroom floor. The next day, I thought about what we could get her as a thank-you gift. While I thought about the perfect gift for her, it turns out we’d already given her a special gift. We gave her the flu.

In light of the experience, I thought I’d offer a new rendition of T’was the Night Before Christmas.

‘Twas the Month Before Christmas – A Flu Story 

‘Twas the month before Christmas, when the flu hit our house,

No creature was safe from what spewed from our mouths.

Our heads were all hung over the toilets with no shame or care,

In hopes that St. Ginger Ale would end our despair.

Just as the children were finally snug in their beds,

With one groan I knew what was ahead.

And me in my tattered robe looking like a tired sap,

I ran to see the eldest child puking in her lap.

When in the toddler’s room there arose moaning chatter,

I sadly went into his room, knowing what was the matter.

Away to the bathroom with him, I flew like a flash,

Tripped over some bath toys and fell with a crash.

Turned on the light and muttered…oh no,

The sweet child’s vomit covered everything below.

When what to my teary eyes would appear,

The other child holding her mouth, running in full gear.

It all happened so disturbing and quick,

She slipped on her brother’s vomit and proceeded to get sick.

More rapid than fountains, the puke, it came.

I cried and cursed… shouting words that weren’t tame.

(Insert eight bad words here,

Just make sure they rhyme with the well known reindeer)

It was everywhere, even the sides of the wall,

I broke down further and screamed, “F” it all!

Turned on the tub and in they both flew,

And I started to clean… what? They got it on my new loofa too?

I got the room twinkling, right up to the roof,

The children were washed, down to each child hoof.

Relieved that things seemed to be turning around,

I tucked them in bed, all safe and sound.

Dressed in new clothes, from bottom to top,

I settled down, after burning the mop.

While I laid down, resting my aching back,

I wished for the flu, that there was some new hack.

Almost asleep, my child came in, not looking so merry,

All I could think was, oh boy, I shouldn’t have given her dairy.

Her droll mouth was definitely not drawn up like a bow,

But her face was unfortunately, as white as the snow.

She ran to my bathroom, clenching her teeth,

I prayed and prayed that she’d hit the toilet bowl beneath.

I can’t believe all of the things that came from her belly,

Yep, there went that peanut butter and jelly.

Out of nowhere, I remembered that stupid elf,

And how I completely forgot to put his ass on a shelf.

I focused back on her, quickly patting her head,

Before checking on the little one who just pooped in his bed.

Instead of crying, I rolled up my sleeves and went to work,

Telling myself that it was an accident and he wasn’t a little jerk.

I raised my fingers to pinch my nose,

As I stripped the bedding that didn’t smell like a rose.

Deciding what to do with it all, my first thought was a missile,

Instead, I chucked it outside like and you could hear the soiled sheets whistle.

As it flew through the darkness and went out of sight,

I crazily yelled, “Suck it flu season, so much for the night!”.

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Before I continue, let me just point out that I love my husband dearly and he’s an amazing man…but the man can’t grocery shop to save his life. I have full trust in this man regarding our marriage, our children and my life, but the minute I send him to the grocery store for just ONE thing, my anxiety levels go through the roof and I regret it. I could write him a paragraph description of every item on a grocery list and he’ll still need to call me while in the store to verify what he’s actually getting. Heaven help him if the exact item on the list is not there.

Let me provide an amazing example….

I was hosting a family supper for one of the holidays and realized that I forgot drinks. (I admit, I focus so much on the food that I ALWAYS forget beverages, so my bad) I was busy getting the rest of dinner ready, so my husband graciously offered (or was told…that detail is a little foggy) to go to the store to pick something up. I asked for a specific pop and then some juice for a punch. He asked what kind of juice and that’s when I made the biggest mistake EVER! I was busy and just said, “it doesn’t matter, just some fruity or tropical stuff”. Please note that I did say I only needed one carton as we weren’t’ expecting a lot of people and I like to stay within a budget.

Imagine my confusion when he arrived home carrying 2 grocery bags. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and thought he found other stuff he wanted. That’s when he started pulling out juice cartons one by one, until he had 5 on the counter; not to mention the extra pop he grabbed too. I asked why he got so many and he explained that he wasn’t sure what kind would be best for a punch as he kept seeing different kinds…and he likes juice. He decided to get all of them, so I could decide which one I wanted. Trying to understand his way of thinking, I asked if he was planning on returning the ones that I didn’t use. Nope, he figured we’d drink them eventually. That’s when I tried to explain that we didn’t need to consume that much juice.

I’m glad that he wants to make me happy by getting the “perfect” grocery items but it’s not the end of the world…besides, I’d just send him back anyways if he gets the wrong item! Wait a minute…I may understand him now.

Fast forward to him offering to pick up ALL of the groceries for another holiday dinner because I was busy. Oh, bless his sweet soul for wanting to help…but NO FREAKING WAY! Now I look at his grocery shopping in positive way. It’s like Christmas morning when I open the grocery bags because what’s in the bag is usually a surprise. Also, it’s nice to not have to go to the store for a few items during the many holidays; so sometimes it’s all worth it.

In full disclosure, he has improved and I’m starting to question my role in this. I might be a little picky…

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Before you read this title and can’t wait to offer your congratulations, let me clear the air. No. I’m not expecting again. Sorry to disappoint! I’m referring to the fact that after a post (wonderfully written, I might add) stating that I was back and committed to this blog, I disappeared…AGAIN. Oh boy. Even though I was finishing my fourth book and parenting my little ones, that’s no excuse! I could have just written another post and carry-on, but I really hate elephants in the room (no offense Dumbo!).

Here I go again in saying that I’m back and will keep up this time. Feel free to make bets this time, I won’t be offended.

Now that the embarrassing part is over, it’s time for an update! Can you believe that the tiny face on my cover photo is 5 years old? What the heck?  She started school a few weeks ago and is doing well. Just for the record, I wasn’t the mom who sobbed as I dramatically waved good-bye to my child on her first day of school. I was the mom who ran out of there fast (and gracefully) as I could! To clarify, I do love my child, I just know that this is the next stage that she needs, and she was excited to go without me. In fact, she made it clear that I’d cramp her style by going in with her. Yep, that’s my sassy, independent little girl. I have to admit, it feels weird to just hand her over to a teacher without a heavy-duty instruction manual in her backpack.

How’s our little Axel? Well, he’s quite the character. I know that the rule is to never compare your children…but I’m a rebel so I’m doing it. The only thing they have in common is they’re humor and goofballery. That’s a word, right? Well, it is now. Everything on the internet is official.  Axel is calm, patient (unless food is involved) and a happy 2-year-old. His temper tantrums last 5 seconds…seriously though, you can countdown. He loves cuddles and gives the bests hugs. He also gives the best licks or “puppy kisses”. Don’t judge, we’re working on it.

Because I know you want them, here’s the updated photos of the kids, including Piper’s first day of school photos. Enjoy!

Click to view slideshow.
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