The Interruption Finale (almost...)

I thought it was over.

After 12 grueling days ... the vomiting stopped for 36 hours. We thought we were through the thick of it, and then Elizabeth woke up at 2:30 this morning, vomiting again. Carolyn and William haven't been sick for three days and that brings us more joy than I can express. This has got to be one of the worst viruses on the face of the earth and I pray we never encounter something like it again.

Yesterday morning, we woke up to one of the children crying at 5:30 AM. I kicked gently nudged Charlie and asked if he wouldn't mind checking in the nursery. Over the baby monitor I could hear him groan "Ohhh Man. Jen. This is as bad as it's ever been!" I pulled myself out of bed and walked in to two walls on my way to the nursery before finally getting my eyes fully open.

As soon as I walked in to the room - my nose hairs curled. Charlie had one of the kids on the changing table and they were soaking wet. The other two kids were laying in their cribs crying - also soaking wet. At first I thought it was just a mere diaper breakthrough ... but then I realized it was diarrhea.

This was the worst blow out EVER.

The contents that should have remained IN the diaper, had blasted out with such force that it was coming out by the neck opening AND through the feet of the sleeper. While Charlie stepped to the side and started gagging, I whipped off all of the soaked pajamas, wrapped one child at a time in a towel and ran out to the kitchen sink. Thank goodness I'm feeling better because I think that this experience one week ago would have completely done me in. For the first time that I can recall, all three of the kids received baths before sun rise. Unfortunately, the baths fully woke them up - so there was no way we could put them in their cribs and expect them to go back to sleep. Boy oh boy did we try.

One of the worst things about the kids being sick - other than the projectile vomiting, diarrhea, sleepless nights, 5 loads of laundry that we must do each and every day, 40 diapers per day, stains on the carpet that will never come out, finding foods that appeal to the kids that they can tolerate, and the scary amounts of weight that they have lost - is the huge amount of television that we've been watching. Because I don't feel comfortable taking the kids out in public for fear that they will throw up everywhere and/or pick up another virus ... Sesame Street is an excellent alternative to the park. After twelve days, even the whiny Caillou, who I once wanted to smack, is starting to grow on me.

I didn't want for this virus to keep us from experiencing Halloween, so we dressed the children up in their costumes and took them for a walk around the neighborhood with our good friend, Virginia. I had originally planned to dress them up as the three little pigs ... but when I saw that the chicken costumes were on sale at Old Navy for $12.00, I caved. Besides, I liked the idea of going as the "crazed pregnant mother chicken who ran around with her head cut off."

Unfortunately, I couldn't figure out how to conjure up a costume that portrayed the image I had in mind, without having people think I was a psycho.

The kids loved being dressed up and enjoyed pushing their toys around the neighborhood. We brought them to only one house for trick-or-treating and all three of the kids hung back clinging on to Charlie's legs when he rang the doorbell. However, once they realized that they were getting CANDY, they warmed right up. As I started to walk down the pathway towards home, the kids promptly laid flat on the ground and started crying "MORE!! MORE!!"

It's a good thing I don't embarrass easily. I contemplated laying down next to them and crying "MORE! MORE!" too. Of course, I wouldn't be referring to candy. I would be referring to the fact that I need MORE arms, MORE eyes, MORE hours in the day, and MORE room in the house ... for our unexpected miracle that is due next year.

Sadly, pregnant women shouldn't enjoy a glass of wine when they are expecting because I could REALLY use one.

When we arrived home, I sat the kids on our front stoop and let them hand out candy. Very quickly I noticed that our children were picking up candy from the bowl and trying to take bites out of every single piece. Because I didn't want to hand out candy that had saliva from children who had been vomiting for 12 days on it ... nor, did I want to hand out candy that was partially crushed because a toddler tried to chew it, I filtered through the more than 400 pieces and generated a fairly large "reject" pile.

This year we only received 71 trick-or-treaters, a big reduction from the 108 we received last year and the 104 we received the year prior. I always keep track of how many kids come by because I think it's important to have a sufficient supply of candy on hand. This year, in preparation for our 100+ trick-or-treaters, Charlie picked up 14 bags of candy. We've determined that there is nothing worse than a dwindling supply of candy, that forces you to run out to the grocery store at 7 PM on Halloween and then settle for the leftover bags of Raisinettes.

Really. I think you'd have better luck shopping for a decent looking tree on Christmas Eve, than you would finding a bag of Snickers from our grocery store on Halloween night.

Now that I can see the light at the end of this sickness tunnel, I can honestly say that these have been some of the most grueling weeks of my entire life. After making it through this period with our humor intact and without suffering a complete mental breakdown, I feel like we need a firework show or something grandiose.

Maybe I'll just settle for the 133 33 pieces of candy remaining in our reject pile.