Zen and the Art of Motherhood

The last couple of weeks have been pretty low key around here.  What?  My house quiet?

Well, we've had our reasons.  As I posted before, my oldest son came home with the Swine Flu a couple of weeks ago.  After a week, it looked like it passed over the rest of us.  Pheww!  But by a cruel twist of fate, the incubation period is 7 to 10 days, and on about day 9, the swine hit the fan.

The two girls got it, followed quickly by me and then my husband.  The little guy is the only one in the clear right now.  Not to be outdone though, he got an ear infection from hell instead.  It threatened to rupture, but so far, so good.

The worst part for him has been the medicine.  Because of the severity, the doctor prescribed a new antibiotic.  Not the normal pink, bubble gum flavored kind, lets just say it didn't go over too well.  The first time I tried to get the syringe into his mouth, he happened to pull back just as I squirt it into his eye.  I'm pretty sure that wasn't in the little directions packet that came with the bottle.  The second time (and third and forth and fifth for that matter) it got into his mouth, but was quickly launched across the room as he spit it back at us.

You try telling a three year old to drink something that tastes like crap.  All the "but it will make you feel betters" in all the world won't make a lick of difference. Its gross and that's that.  We even tried mixing it with some chocolate milk.  It worked once, but now he'son to us yet again.  So right now, we've back to the drawing board, trying to find new and ingenious ways of sneaking the smelly stuff past him.

If this wasn't enough, I found out a couple of weeks ago that I have mono.  That's right, the Kissing Disease.  The problem is, with all the bugs going around here, nobody's been kissing anyone.  How do you like that?  If I'm going to end up with the stupid ailment, you'd think I could at least have some fun doing it. Oh well, such is my life.

What I'm left with is a fine combination of fevers, chills and the unrelenting urge to go back to bed.  Come to think of it, my eyes are feeling a bit heavy as I type, so time to sign off and say Good Night -- or Good Afternoon or Good Morning.  Whatever.

Night. Night.

Confession of the Day:  I'm a rabid fan of anything Pink Panther.  The original, Peter Sellers version of course.  And just like one of Cato's surprise attacks, our nice pediatrician blindsided me this morning -- informing me my son now has the swine flu.  But instead of immediate dread, my first visual was of our dear friend, the Inspector.  Hey, it made me chuckle at least.

Unfortunately, my amusement has quickly given way to fear.  My Pond Boy may be the only one to come down with it so far, but I know its only a matter of time before the rest of us fall like dominoes.  That's just the kind of family we are.  Generous to a fault.

My oldest daughter has already been complaining of symptoms and the little guy was an amazing grump today. As I type, he's face down on his bed, fast asleep.  He went up there all by himself, and that's never, ever a good sign.  Peaceful, yes.  Comforting, no.

So right now I'm bracing myself for a very long weekend.  As soon as I finish typing, I'll start disinfecting   Then I'll be stocking up on the Echinacea and all things antioxidant. Oh crap, who am I kidding.  We're doomed.  You swine flu.