It started on Saturday afternoon with a tired and cranky (then) ten year old. I sent her to nap in the early afternoon while the little ones and I went swimming.
On Sunday afternoon that same (then) ten year old, asked to go lay down mid-party set-up. Because it was her party that she was super excited about, I let her sneak off to rest for a little while. I knew something was up, but if I didn't stay in party mode there was no way we were going to be ready when the guests arrived.
Heck, even if I stayed in party mode there was no way I was going to be ready when the guest arrived.
But, I digress.
So I was beginning to suspect there was an illness lurking around. My first reaction was to ignore.
Monday was our typical day after a party kind of day. We cleaned, we relaxed, we watched movies while laying around.
It felt good to have some downtime.
The kids were awesomely compliant. No running around the house screaming at the top of their lungs. No punching or kicking or verbal assaults. No whining or complaining or tattle telling.
Of course I should have been inept enough to see this as a clue that something just wasn't right. However, that ignore mode just hadn't turned off.
Tuesday started off quite the same as Monday. The baby and I took a walk through the garden. I enjoyed a hot cup of coffee. I caught up on some organizing that I had been putting off. I made some phone calls and folded some laundry.
All of this while the children were sleeping.
When the (now) eleven year old got up, she had a kleenex attached to her nose and a cough that was the waking alarm for the other two.
I wished her a Happy Birthday. She started to cry. She couldn't believe she was sick on her birthday. Especially since she was sick on Christmas, too!
By Tuesday evening, the seven year old started complaining about his neck and stomach hurting. Now fully in assess and action mode, I check his glands and took his temperature. Sure enough, swollen and fever. The stomach thing was new addition.
By Tuesday night the two of them had used three full boxes of tissues and the seven year old was rushing to the bathroom to empty his stomach every couple of hours.
He slept in our room that night. I alternated between tending to him and the baby. I slept very little in between.
Last night it became clear that the baby had confused day and night. She's a big fan of five hour naps in the afternoon in exchange for fives hours of playtime in the middle of the night.
This afternoon, the husband came home from work. Stuffy nose, sneezing, sore throat and coughing. Between the two sick kids and the baby, he is the worst.
To add insult to injury, I made the kids work on their summer math packets today. With only a few weeks left until school starts and a possible vacation, it had to be done.
I'm not sure who is being tortured more right now, me or them.