It started a week before Christmas. It was an insane week between holiday prep, work, and volunteering/running a holiday shop at the kids' school. I hardly had any volunteers so it was basically me doing it every chance I could between shifts. I had cancelled things I was supposed to do right after school so I could stay and essentially, my schedule was a nightmare. Of course on the worst possible day for anyone to get sick, Thursday, when I had no help at all and no parent could come, Jackson gets sick. And not just at any point during the day, during the beginning of "open shop" hours so classes were sending all of their kids down. I'm alone, I've got waves up 20+ kids coming, and it was rough. In between waves, the nurse brings me Jackson with his 103 degree fever and it's like, no. This is not happening. He was FINE an hour earlier. Totally fine.
So I quick called Matt to see if he could get off of work, just until noon or so, and come get Jackson. Jackson meanwhile, lay himself on a bench and tried to fall asleep despite being surrounded by not so quiet kids shopping. Just as Matt was coming, I looked over at him and he's quietly crying and asking for doggy. Now folks, if Jackson asks for doggy? We have a problem. So Matt takes him, I close down the shop for the day and tell work I can't finish my shift.
The rest of the afternoon he slept and had a raging fever despite Tylenol or Advil, and I was kind of worried. FINALLY, around 8pm his fever broke and he's happy as a clam.
Fast forward 4 hours when fever comes back and he's emotional and clingy. Then he throws up in his bed, which lands him in my bed because I was so tired I didn't have it in me to change bed sheets in the middle of the night. Not a chance he was going to go to school on Friday.
Olivia was, because Olivia was fine. So I take her to school and all is well. Eventually Jackson agreed to some soup and 7 Up, but didn't perk up at all.
This is what my little guy looked like for about 7 days straight. He had his beloved Doggy, Billy Bear, Cow Pillow Pet, his blue baby blanket and demanded cuddles. It was pathetic.
Then just as he was getting better, Olivia got sick. Then Jackson got sick again. Then he got better and Olivia has gotten sick again. She is currently dead to the world on the couch, curled up with her favorite things. The last three nights she has coughed non stop in her room, the entire night. It's not a croup or whopping cough, it's just phlegm and nothing we give her or do seems to help.
Needless to say, I have gotten zero sleep for awhile. I'm so tired it hurts to blink. I can't sleep because even ear plugs aren't helping. If it's not noise, it's a kid waking me up to say they just "threw up boogers" in their bed.
I'm over it. I can't even say I can't wait for them to go back to school next week because at this point, if they can go back to school next week I will feel like I have hit the lottery. I have sanitized and disinfected every thing in this house, washed countless loads of bedding, and I'm just completely over it. Done. Can't do it, I want to run away.
Luckily, Matt hasn't gotten sick and I've only gotten a cold. An annoying one, but if that's all I get I'm fine with it. The only good thing is that it has gotten so damn cold here like a flip of a switch that I'm hoping it kills off whatever germs people are incubating. I really hope that's not just something people say but rather, a scientific and proven fact. Cross your fingers, folks.