Miracle #1: While Zach did throw up two portions of tomato soup with noodles all over his bed, bed miscellany, and the low shag carpet in his bedroom, which was probably the most disgusting thing I have ever seen or had to clean up in my life, with the sole exception of Ruby dog-diarrhea after she ate a used Pull-Up while we were trying to sell the house (thank God for the wet vac!), he did it before Adam and I went to bed, so we had an uninterrupted night of sleep.
Miracle #2: While afore mentioned horribly disgusting throw-up was everywhere, including all over Zach's full-size comforter that is too large to fit into my not-gigundo size washing machine; I have a bathtub, and Woolite, and vinegar, and some (not large, but reasonable) arm and leg muscles, as well as friends who have the brilliance to mention that I may be able to wash said comforter in the tub. And so I did. And it is clean and odor-free.
Miracle #3: While Zach failed to make it to the bathroom the second time he threw up, actually, he failed to wake up at all (which is beyond description in its disgustingness, but also another reason why Adam and I got such a good night of sleep), the Sea of Towels did its duty, and did it proudly. Not a fleck of red or smooshy noodle was found anywhere beyond the perimeter of The Sea. I won't go into what was on the towels, but I was just glad it wasn't on anything else. This picture is not Zach's Sea of Towels, the heroic Sea of Towels, as that one promptly ended up rinsed out and then in the washing machine, but it is an example of the set up.
Miracle #4: While Adam and I did not escape The Nast, we did make it through relatively easily and on different days. In addition, his boss let him "work from home" the day he was sick since he had a bunch of performance appraisals to read anyway, thus he didn't have to use a PTO day, and I didn't get sick until later in the afternoon on the second day, so he didn't have to miss that day either, gotta use those scant vacation days wisely! Plus, our yuckiness brought out the good in our kids...see that cute "Get Well" card Ben made Adam? (And look at my patient husband, letting me take pictures of him sick...that's blog love!)
Miracle #5: While Ben did not escape The Nast, he did make it to the bathroom for every barf and was thrilled to be able to finally enter the "sick room" where Zach had been quarantined for the previous 24-hours, and hang out with his favorite bro and the portable DVD player.
Miracle #6: My friend Margaret, who had called to check on the location of our Wednesday playgroup, (the first question in my vomit-addled mind was, "What's playgroup?") heard our plight and offered to bring us dinner. And didn't take "That's O.K. You don't have to; we're fine," for an answer. Because by that evening I was not fine. And the family was happy to have a warm, tasty dinner...and fresh baked cookies too! Because otherwise I don't know what they would have had...Adam's stand-by is tomato soup with noodles...and that was definitely out. Not only that, but she just elbowed out my friend Kendra, who, not a-half-an-hour later, made the same offer! Dude, seriously girls, you rock my world.
Miracle #7 (and perhaps the best one of all): Josh and Luke, the two children in our home who have a snowball's chance in hell of making it to the toilet, somehow avoided The Nast once again. They never got it last time either. Or the strep throat. Seriously, that has to be a miracle. Proof: Luke happily eating this afternoon, 48-hours since Ben's last puke. Hallelujah!
Please realize that I am writing this from the "after" point of view. Any post put up over the last three days would have read quite differently. Maybe titled, "Take Me Now, God!" or "Why The Smell of Puke Makes Me Want To Cut Off My Nose," or possibly, "By The Time You Read This, I Will Be The Newest Resident of St. Sabastian's Home For The Mentally Insane."
Miracle #4: While Adam and I did not escape The Nast, we did make it through relatively easily and on different days. In addition, his boss let him "work from home" the day he was sick since he had a bunch of performance appraisals to read anyway, thus he didn't have to use a PTO day, and I didn't get sick until later in the afternoon on the second day, so he didn't have to miss that day either, gotta use those scant vacation days wisely! Plus, our yuckiness brought out the good in our kids...see that cute "Get Well" card Ben made Adam? (And look at my patient husband, letting me take pictures of him sick...that's blog love!)Miracle #5: While Ben did not escape The Nast, he did make it to the bathroom for every barf and was thrilled to be able to finally enter the "sick room" where Zach had been quarantined for the previous 24-hours, and hang out with his favorite bro and the portable DVD player.Miracle #6: My friend Margaret, who had called to check on the location of our Wednesday playgroup, (the first question in my vomit-addled mind was, "What's playgroup?") heard our plight and offered to bring us dinner. And didn't take "That's O.K. You don't have to; we're fine," for an answer. Because by that evening I was not fine. And the family was happy to have a warm, tasty dinner...and fresh baked cookies too! Because otherwise I don't know what they would have had...Adam's stand-by is tomato soup with noodles...and that was definitely out. Not only that, but she just elbowed out my friend Kendra, who, not a-half-an-hour later, made the same offer! Dude, seriously girls, you rock my world.Miracle #7 (and perhaps the best one of all): Josh and Luke, the two children in our home who have a snowball's chance in hell of making it to the toilet, somehow avoided The Nast once again. They never got it last time either. Or the strep throat. Seriously, that has to be a miracle. Proof: Luke happily eating this afternoon, 48-hours since Ben's last puke. Hallelujah!Please realize that I am writing this from the "after" point of view. Any post put up over the last three days would have read quite differently. Maybe titled, "Take Me Now, God!" or "Why The Smell of Puke Makes Me Want To Cut Off My Nose," or possibly, "By The Time You Read This, I Will Be The Newest Resident of St. Sabastian's Home For The Mentally Insane."**Addendum** OK, so maybe this post should have been named one of those. Or at least "Will It Ever End?" or "Jumping the Gun." Possibly, "Optimism Gets You Nowhere." Or maybe we can just scratch part of #7. Not ten minutes after I posted this, Josh came to me looking as white as a sheet, feeling as clammy as a fish, and told me his tummy hurt. And then it came. Oh, yes. Come it did. **shudder** It makes me ill all over again to think of it. But I will spare you. Go on happily to your dinners and think no more upon it. 
To keep the essence of the post I will say that Luke is still cheerful and happily torturing the dog (who is thankfully quite tolerant, look at her face saying, "*sigh* I am so put upon, quite literally."), so at this point we won't remove #7 altogether. 
To keep the essence of the post I will say that Luke is still cheerful and happily torturing the dog (who is thankfully quite tolerant, look at her face saying, "*sigh* I am so put upon, quite literally."), so at this point we won't remove #7 altogether.