grading, grading and
more grading of papers; sigh
three more weeks to go
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
Friday, May 13, 2005
Turns out this nasty stomach thing is highly contagious. We all got it to some degree - but no one contracted a worse case than JG, the three year old. My nine-year-old did give me a run for my money, however. Bellyache at 4:30 AM, puking at 5:00 AM, crying and wailing from the belly pain on and off from 5:30 AM to 6:00 PM. No, of course I didn't puke. Neither did KJ. She knows just how to make her mom happy.
I doubt there are many other bloggers that are preoccupied with the ins and outs of undigested food. Well, many who are not bulemic anyway.
Posted by bluesugarpoet at 9:06 PM
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
I just wanted it to be known that I am alive and I have survived – so far, that is. J.G. was very ill with the stomach flu from Thursday until yesterday. In fact, this is the first day she has really been her perky self again. Serious stuff. She is a tiny little three-year-old to begin with, so losing four pounds of body fluids over five days took her down to 28 lbs. It was a very scary weekend – I won’t give all the details, but a hospital visit was averted.
Oh, and my niece puked at the Mother’s Day barbeque at my parent’s house.
That’s all I’ve got for now – I’m spent.
Posted by bluesugarpoet at 9:11 PM
Thursday, May 05, 2005
Singing about diarrhea – that’s funny. Having it – not so much fun. Cleaning up someone else’s diarrhea, well that’s neither funny nor fun. And when undigested food is squirting out both ends of your three year old who hasn’t had enough viral experience to know to do this in the bathroom, well let me tell you that it has an appeal factor of about –50. Of course that is just a rough guesstimate. The actual appeal factor probably rates much lower than that. I am tired. I am tired of doing laundry (you would be surprised at how much soiled laundry one little kid can generate). My hands are raw from in-between contact scrubs.
My husband will not be back for another week.
I have an undiagnosed case of emetophobia (aka puke-a-phobia). I am thinking that this is God’s funny way of desensitizing me to vomit. God is right; puke that is water is not half as scary as chunky puke.
Sickness, please do go quickly into that good night…
Oh, and by the way…fellow bloggers (all three of you), I have read some fantabulous posts over the past week that I’ve been itching to respond to, but just know that I probably won’t get around to commenting on all of those posts until next week.
Posted by bluesugarpoet at 6:44 PM