I don’t wanna...I don’t wanna!... I DON'T WANNA!!!

Four days before it struck.

Now, based upon the title of the entry you are probably thinking that I will be discussing a recent toddler tantrum or a preschooler protest but you would be wrong.  I don’t wanna…. I don’t wanna! I DON'T WANNA!!!....is the statement that was repetitively playing in this modern day mopin’ mama's mind. Why?  Well, it all started last Wednesday.

Hours before it struck.  We will be seeing those muffins again.

It started off as an innocent Wednesday.  We did our usual Wednesday routine.  Dropped off Mya at Kindergarten, went to baby story time at the library, had a lovely lunch…yada…yada…yada.   That evening the dog got sick and that’s when this mama went into survival mode.  (See, the flu usually strikes the dog first, weird, right?) I checked the status of our laundry situation, specifically towels, I cleaned out all buckets, I made sure fluids were stocked and ready for ingestion, medication was available for all ages and ample, clean sheets were a go, I was prepared.  If the stomach flu was going to strike my family I was prepared for the battle, BRING IT!  

Thursday Mya got sick at school and I picked her up.  It appeared to be an isolated case.  She never got sick again, it appeared to be one of those common kiddo conditions when they eat a lot of food then go run around and puke a minute later.  My son is notorious for doing this but it is usually with the help of his little friend called the sit-n-spin.  Please, they should call it the eat-sit-spin-puke. I digressed.  So, since it was isolated, and nothing happened Friday or Saturday morning this mama let her guard down.  Bad idea, that’s when ‘it’ goes in for the sneak attack, as if ‘it’ can sense when you are the most vulnerable.

My allies in this battle.

It hit our family Saturday night without warning.  It hit Mya.  Then while I was in the process of tending to her it struck Max. NO!!!! I felt so defenseless.  I thought we were out of the woods, so in my carelessness I thought I could change the sheets on Friday and then take a day off from laundry on Saturday (God rested on the seventh day, have I learned nothing, wait till Sunday)  So, to my dismay I was no longer prepared.  But I was not going to give up without a fight.  I hauled ass down to the washing machine and I started doing laundry like it was going out of style (what does that even mean?).  But I couldn’t keep up.  I hate to admit it but after a certain point any article of clothing that no longer fit a child was subject to earning the distinctive title of puke soaker-upper (as well as that ugly shirt my hubby liked-shhh. Oh, you know there is a shirt of your hubby’s that you are just praying earns the same title).  I am not proud of it but I had to do what I had to do to stay on top of this crazy battle. Then, as if the flu could see that I was making a comeback it hit below the belt.  It wanted to hit me where it hurts, it hit the baby, that bastard!

This morning... 

So, as I slowly walked back to my car in the pouring rain, no make-up, feet and sneakers soaked from the gosh darn puddles, wearing my PJs under my coat after dropping off my one healthy child at school I contemplated what awaited me at home.  At home was a son who can’t make it to the bathroom or the bucket, and never lays down. No, he jumps around like a power ranger puking here and there as he goes, leaving puddles of puke everywhere and my curious 13-month-old is willing to play in anything (I won’t get to graphic you might be eating).  I knew that as soon as I got home I needed to clean up the puddles from this morning, clean up the baby, do lot’s of laundry, explain a million times why you can’t eat after puking, sanitize the house, and chase around my preschooler with a bucket, I just wanted to say forget about it (I know what you were thinking).  So, as I continued my rainy stroll back to the car a little tear escaped my eye and in my mind I was chanting...I don’t wanna…I don’t wannn..I DON’T WANNA!! But, home I went ……