That's what we've been this week. All three of us sick, all at the same time. And all of us big giant babies about it.
I so wish I was one of those brave, soldier-on types in the face of the common cold, powering through the aches and congestion, and I guess for the first day it hit me (Wednesday), I was. I took Ethan to the doctor so I could pay a medical professional a $10 co-pay to give me the ever-predictable "just a virus" diagnosis and send us on our way, hacking up a lung and groaning all the way. I went to Target and Bed, Bath & Beyond and back to Target to find the best humidifier for Ethan's room, and to two different grocery stores to get the ingredients for my father's homemade chicken soup (seriously, Safeway, if you remove all your chicken from the refrigerator case so you can clean it, and put the chicken on a rolling rack, and can't tell me how long its been sitting out of the refrigerator, I'm not buying your chicken. I'm not making Salmonella soup here....). Then I came home, whipped up the chicken soup, and went back out to get Husband, who was huddled up on the couch under blankets, some Sudafed. All the while, muttering to myself, "I will not get sick. I will not get sick. I will not get sick." All the while feeling the back of my throat scratch and the inside of my head start to feel like it was alternately floating up to the ceiling and filling up with concrete. Super.
Yesterday, Ethan and I spent the day curled up in bed or on the couch, our eyes glazed over at the television, our throats sore, hacking up lungs and blowing our noses. And trying not to annoy the everloving crap out of each other because seriously, neither of us are a treat when we're sick. Ethan goes back and forth between bursts of energy where he's running around, shouting gibberish and finding the loudest toys he owns, and moments of needy clinginess, where he must be ON me or he wails "you're not nice!!!!" (which feels awesome). And when I'm sick? I need it quiet and to not. be. touched. So, you know, very compatible. Needless to say, it was a great day.
Today I woke, determined that we were all healthy enough to resume our normal schedule. After three full days of 24/7 sick-family-bonding-time, I hadn't heard Ethan cough once overnight, I could move without feeling the room spin and talk without my throat feeling like it was being prodded by 1000s of little tiny needles. Hooray!!! School for Ethan!! QUIET TIME FOR ME!!! Oh sweet fancy Moses, QUIET TIME!
I whipped up breakfast, packed up lunch, gathered up clothes for the child, complete with Dr. Seuss shirt since we'd missed his actual birthday earlier in the week. I went through the house packing up my computer and charging my phone. Four hours of quiet time!!!!
And then Ethan sneezed. And the entire contents of his sinuses came flying out of his nose. And then he coughed a rattle-y, achy cough. And after I had swooped in with a boxful of tissues to alleviate the emergency snot situation, Ethan croaked, "I don't feel so good. I think I should stay home today."
And so here we sit (or I should say "here I sit," as Ethan is currently in one of his running around the house, yelling and playing as though he's never encountered a germ in his life), for the 4th day in a row, cooped up in the house, getting twitchier by the moment.
At least a friend brought cupcakes....