The Plague

Not so cute now, is he?

It’s interesting. The sickness is something they don’t really tell you about. I mean, it’s kind of out there … “Oh, if he’s in daycare, he’ll get a lot of colds the first year.” But there’s no way to really convey the horror of the Plague Months. For us, it started at Christmas. Eli had been sick about once a month since his big croup episode in October, but late December is when the uninterrupted streak began.

He started by giving us the stomach flu, one person at a time, every two days, like some lethal game of dominoes. First him, then me, then Justin, then my poor visiting mom–all of us laid out, voiding our guts, for eight miserable hours each. That round ended on Dec. 24, and the three of us have been varying degrees of sick ever since. I’m pretty sure his nose has been running and he’s been coughing since the first week in January. We’ve all had various colds since then, all three had bouts with another, much milder stomach flu (thank goodness). Right now, Justin’s recovering from a bacterial sinus infection, I’ve got a wicked head-pounding cold that caused me to lose my voice almost completely, and Eli woke up this morning with pinkeye in both eyes and the start of an ear infection. We’re just walking zombies right now. Cleaning the house? Forget it. Working out? Not likely. Having enough energy to do more than get through the day, eat dinner, mindlessly watch TV and go to bed? Not since December, but thanks for asking!

Sure, it’s warming up and the sun is out, but winter’s not over and there’s no end in sight. My friend Lindsey told me a year or two ago that now that she has kids, she really, really hates winter. At the time I thought that was sort of a sad sentiment. I love winter! Ha. Winter. A pox on you, winter.