The only good thing about the stomach flu...

...is weighing yourself the next morning. Like instant diet! Not quite worth the effort, which is why I never could become a bulemic (correction...that's bulimic) or anorexic, but it's nice to see a lower number that would have normally taken weeks to accomplish...lol! Now the trick is to keep it there...and work on the target number.

So we've recovered. I actually misspoke, or rather, I was writing in shorthand, about who was sick when. The first to get sick was A who became ill Thursday morning. I picked his puking self up from school and proceeded to sanitize the house while corralling him to his room and the boys' bathroom. I cleaned often. I sprayed with Lysol whenever I could. I cared for my sick child who threw up like ten times before collapsing into sleep the rest of the day and night. He was fine the next morning. He was playing. Saturday rolled around. Nobody was sick. Whooo! I thought the risk was over. The one-time deal. J played with a friend. The babysitter came over. D and I were off to dinner and the movies.

I did notice though, right before leaving, that I wasn't very hungry. I slipped into a state of denial.

While D and I ate at our local BBQ place (I did notice that neither of us ate very much - more denial), the sitter took the kids out for burgers. They all ate happily. They watched t.v., skateboarded outside and played on the computer. J had said though he wasn't feeling all that great and spent much of the time on the couch with the remote control in his hand. More denial. The sitter was sitting with M while she drew some pictures, sitting happily until M threw up over the dog in the park with the purple-red skies. Within a few minutes, J was running down the hall to the boys' bathroom to toss his cookies.

The sitter called us while D and I were at the very end of Mission Impossible III. The phone call came (the cell was on vibrate mode you cell phone haters!). We took off without catching the end, just as my stomach did a turn and caffeine seemed to be coursing through me. I definitely had something. When we got home, the toilets and one sink was plugged (as M was sitting on a chair in front of the sink, crying). We pushed the sitter out of the house with fair warning and apologies for thinking our one shot with A on Thursday was it. Still haven't had word on whether she's sick. Not sure I will hear as I told her please don't tell me, I'll feel even more horrible!

So...while D was clearing out the plumbing, I moved M into our room with a pan, and moved J to his room with a pan. Luckily, he just knocked off to sleep. A went to sleep, happy that he wasn't sick. In fact, he was having quite a good time following D around tending to the sickies and helping with the plumbing.

D slept on the couch. So while M was puking into the pan, I was puking in the master bathroom. Which was horrible - because I could hear my poor child crying and puking while I was spitting the remnants. Can I say horrible again?

This lasted until 2 or so. At the end, my poor daughter was waking up and turning slightly to throw nothing but bile while I held the pan. Then she'd roll right back over and resume her sleep as if nothing happened. In fact, I suspect she doesn't really remember those last heaves. She'll make a great sorority member.

At five in the morning, D staggered into my room, asking for the compazine.

"Honey, the pill won't do a thing for you."

It held him for three hours. Then he proceeded to get sick every half hour until about 2 in the afternoon.

Throughout the rest of the day, D and I laid about the house like beached whales while the kids ran amok. Nobody to cook for them, nobody to break up the fights, nobody to serve their every whim.

"Get turkey out of the fridge. Have some chips. A popsicle would be good. No, even better, just eat the Halloween candy that's in the cupboard....just...just...zzzzzzzzz."

Today, we're alive and kicking. Still not as good as should be, but enough to clean sheets, wipe down counters, write some e-mail, make sandwiches, rest in between spurts. The kids are fine, super fine.

Ahhh...so much for our long weekend.