Woe is me

Do you ever have those weeks where you think, "Poor me!  This week was horrible and hard and I just want to lock the door and shut the world out until I can stop feeling sorry for myself?!"  Well, that is me.  Right now.  As I blog.  Le sigh.

This hasn't been the easiest month due to all the snow and cancelled plans and having to stay inside because it's to effing cold to go out and play... which makes for stir crazy kids... which makes for frazzled parents.  But, this last week took the cake.  Our sweet Norah one afternoon was getting ready for lunch when I looked at her tray and it was completely covered in vomit.  Like, it was almost brimming over it was so full.  What. The. Heck.  She wasn't upset about it.  And I didn't even hear her do it.  Eek.  Our kids have never been pukers so we aren't really that experienced in it, even though this is our third!  Well, our sweet Norah continued to be sweet even though she was clearly very sick.  The only thing that would keep down is Momma milk, so at least I felt good that she was keeping some sort of food down.

Poor Goose at the library... she even had to take her mammick in and just wanted to lay on the bean bags

Us in the middle of the night because her fever was bad and just wanted to cuddle

Well, it didn't stop there.  Dude was watching a show and I was showering when Gaetan came in and said that he had just puked all up and down the side of the couch.  And the last thing that he had was chocolate milk... glorious.  We had been at the library earlier that day and Lucy was all sad and pathetic... you could just tell that she wasn't feeling well.  She luckily didn't puke but had a pretty severe fever, which made her want to be extra cuddly, but when I get a fever I don't want anything touching me... and then add on top of that Gaetan and I had it coming out both ends.  Marvelous.  We moved everybody into our room for the night and tried to survive til morning.  Lucy and Dude were good by morning which was good, but I still had stabbing pain in my stomach :(  Gaetan had seemed to get everything out of his system (literally) at night and was feeling pretty good.  We ended up going to my parents because we told them that we would help move my sister but I wasn't sure that we were going to live through the night.  Yes, that sounds dramatic, but when everybody is on the verge of puking or other at any given moment you don't wonder why we felt that way.

The hardest part I think is that the kids are still misbehaving.  I'm not sure what it is, but they are acting like entitled little brats and it's killing me.  It's killing me because I know that they're good kids.  It's killing me because I refuse to have kids like that. It's killing me because it gets to the point where I just don't want to get up because I'm not sure I can handle one more whiney fit being thrown because heaven forbid we didn't get them something fast enough or they wanted to do something and couldn't at the exact moment.  It's killing me because these can't be my kids... and I don't know how to fix it.  Just like being sick it seems like we are just trying to get through the day by the skin of our teeth and hoping and praying that the next day will be better.

The last part for sure

JVG