Chunky Monkey has a whole new meaning...

Plagued..literally...by germs..

Will it ever stop? Will it, will it, will it? For the last two...no, almost three weeks, we have been living in an infirmary. Seriously, it's terrible. Just when we think we're in the clear, something else shows its dreary, disgusting, germy head. First it was Emerson...she missed a week of school with croup, followed a few days later by Sutton's croup. So we send them back to school a week ago (last Monday)...no sooner do I put Sutton in the car does she say in an escalating voice, "mom...mom...mom..." You know, that "oh s*#t feeling? Yep, I had it. It was written all over her pretty little face what was about to happen. I yanked her out of the car as fast as I could and we ran behind a tree in a park next to her school, where she unloaded what seemed like a month's worth of lunches. So that was fun. The rest of the week was an ebb and flow of fevers from her...but she never got sick again. That lasted til Saturday, I guess. So on Sunday, I thought "Shew! We're done!" Last night, however, my gorgeous five-year-old woke me up at 1 am because she needed help blowing her nose and when I helped her, was ON FIRE. I went back to bed trying not to completely freak out...stared at the ceiling for awhile, and finally rolled over and woke Drew up. "What do I do? She can't have a fever again, can she?" Once he figured out I really wasn't going to let up on this one, he got out of bed, gave her medicine, changed her into some cooler pj's, and came back to bed. Then again at 2:30 I awoke to her pretty little face peering over me once again...still a bit of a fever and she couldn't sleep. Ugh!

This morning I was expecting the worst, but she was fine. Bouncing around, excited for all things school. I wasn't going to argue. I gave her a little Tylenol, just in case (yes--I am that mom), and we hopped in the car. I sort of expected to hear from the school today, but I didn't and thought, once again, we were in the clear and it was just some random overnight fever. Boy, was I ever WRONG! I picked her up at school and she was a mess.

Mom: "Sweetheart, how was school? Did you have a good day?"

Emerson: "Um...yeah."

Mom: "You don't look like you feel very well."

Emerson: "I don't."

Mom: "Have you felt bad all day?"

Emerson: "No...just half of the day."

Mom: "Why didn't you call me to come and get you?"

Emerson: "Cause my teachers didn't know I was sick."

Mom: "Well, honey, you could have told them."

Emerson: "But I was having too much fun. I didn't want to come home."

*sigh*

We get home and she went straight upstairs to her room, changed into "comfies", shut her bedroom door, and climbed into her bed. I thought she was just changing and coming downstairs, so when I went in to check on her, she said, "Mom--you woke me up. I'm trying to go to sleep." Wait...come again?! Who kidnapped my daughter who has never liked naptime?! I asked her if she wanted to come down and watch a show instead (translation: come downstairs, lay on the couch, have mom take your temperature and convince you to take some medicine). Apparently, that was a good idea. Temperature taken: 104.3...yes, anyone who knows me and what we have been through "fever-wise" with my girls, knows that clearly, internally, I was freaking out. But believe it or not, I didn't totally lose it, just rushed to get a cold washcloth on her head.

Drew called, asked Emerson what she really, really, really wanted for dinner, and brought home her requested soup. We all had dinner together and she seemed much better. Still a fever, runny nose, swollen eyes, but all-in-all, not too shabby (Dick Maynard lingo). Both girls ate pretty well. Soup, bread, fruit...so, Drew pulls out his "surprise" that he bought for her and her sister...Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey Ice Cream. They were so excited. Emerson said, "Oh thanks, Daddy. This will help my throat feel so much better!"

Emerson (taking a bite): "Yummy. This is good...I just...uh...um...don't really like the chocolate."

Dad (walking over to the table...mom over by the couch): "You don't like the chocolate?"

Emerson: "No I...._____(okay, here is where you can insert your own sound effects)..."

Dad: "Uh--BEC!!"

So...without going into further um...details...she had thrown up all over the table. Drew was such a good sport, but man, you should have seen his face! I ran over and tried to help get her to the bathroom and she kept saying, "no mom, I'm fine. I feel better". We walked a few steps...(insert more sound effects)..."OK, mom, now I'm okay"...then we run a few more steps...(insert even more sound effects)...and finally! We make it to the bathroom and she says, "but mom, I'm done now." Nope...she kept going...and going...oh, thank goodness for hardwood floors!

Anyway, so here I sit, sharing, trying to laugh about our evening. She was such a sweetheart about it. We got her cleaned up and in the bath and managed to completely mop our floors (thanks Drew), and each take our own shower as well. Needless to say, Chunky Monkey now means something compleeeeeetly different at the Damiano house.

Now...where did I set that glass of wine?