Warning

WARNING: this post will make you think twice about having children, and if you happen to already have children it will make you shake your head....and maybe laugh.

So, last Sunday we put the kiddos in bed and went to bed ourselves around 10. One of the worst things about being married to your best friend, is that you don't get any sleep...and before your mind goes someplace indecent, it's because we stay up all night talking. It was around 11:30, and we had been comfortable in our beds for a good hour and a half, when we heard the tell tale signs through our baby monitor that it was going to be a long night.

"blaaaaahhhh gllaaaaaahhhh."

Yep. Puke.

Dan and I kind of become SUPER parents in an emergency. Moving at the speed of light, leaping over toys and baskets of laundry in a single bound.... one person told us, "you know you are parents when you catch vomit in your hand."

So, yeah we are parents.
by that and every other definition.

In the morning Brighton begged me to go to school, but my apparent rule is 'throw up, minimum one day no school'. And I hoped this would be an isolated freak incident. No such luck over this past week 4 members of my family have had the stomach flu/cough/runny nose hybrid illness.
I've been up to my elbows in bodily fluids. The house stinks like vomit and Vicks. I have had a few, 'just dropped by to say hi' visitors...much to my total humiliation, who have witnessed my glorious dysfunction.
So, here it is Sunday Night, the next Sunday mind you. Seven days after the first and I have just finished cleaning up after Fairon's latest explosion. AND I ask you how can someone so tiny, still manage to projectile vomit over an entire room...when she has eaten nothing all day?