Now that I am sufficiently recovered

I can talk about this without wanting to scream, swear, or cry.

Last week we had an uninvited and unwelcome guest: the Stomach Flu.
Poor Princess did not move from the couch all day Thursday instead opting to just turn her head and vomit into her puke bowl. She was gray- seriously she looked gray. Then miraculously she was fine. She woke up from her nap about 5 p.m. and declared she was hungry and color had returned to her face.

This was however one of the worst days I have had in a long time. Peas was also coming down with the flu and exceptionally clingy- as apparently I was as well so I was irritable- not a pleasant combo.

I had been puked on, peed on, and pooped on through the course of the day. Which, truth be told, is not that unusual in my life- or the life of any mother.

My day was about to get even worse. I went outside to get the mail and came in with a bee on my head. It stung me. ON MY HEAD! I shrieked. Then saw the bee on the inside of my glasses. I threw them off as my lungs started to close up. I began to squeak (wheeze) and Peas began to laugh. Mama was hopping around throwing glasses and squeaking- fun times. I ran to the kitchen and flung open the junk drawer to find my epi pen. I had to dig here- as after all- it is the JUNK drawer- the drawer that sometimes does not close because of tall of the JUNK in it. I found my epi pen and jabbed it into my thigh. Pain ensued. Those epi pens while preferable to death are certainly not fun.

So my thigh was swollen courtesy of the epi and my head was swollen from the sting. Peas enjoyed the show greatly. I followed up my epi with a prednisone chaser to stave off any follow up allergic reaction.

Princess was blissfully unaware of the drama that had unfolded around her.
I am glad that I was able to deal with that effectively. I cannot imagine having to take her and the others to the ER with me.

Later that night Peas and I were hosts to the stomach bug. Being two, it is harder for her to remember to throw-up into the bucket or toilet, all she was interested in was having someone hold her and comfort her. So she and I were icky together.

Now we are doing better. I have almost dug out from the mountain of laundry and we have cleaned up the debris. Only to find out a playmate has strep- yay.