It always starts with just one.  Just one, innocent, middle-of-the-night puke fest.

And the next day, another.  Another kid puking in bed.  I’m done.  But they’re not!  It’s coming out both ends.  We’re running out of clean sheets and we need more diapers.  Right now, I’m not sure if its just for the kids.

Cause you see, I’m sick too.  I’m nauseous, my stomach is rumbling, and I’m also battling an awful chest cold.  Every time I cough I get thisclose to pissing my pants (thank you, Uterus, for ruining my pelvic floor!).  Every time I get thisclose to pissing my pants my stomach decides to join the fun.  And then I start coughing again.

Feeling like I’m at death’s door I asked JF to go get me some ginger ale at the store last night.  “10 minutes – I’ll go in 10 minutes I promise” he says, with a kiss on the forehead.

5 minutes later he’s talking to the great white bowl.  He was up all night puking, and somehow he’s now sicker than I am.  FOR REAL.  Not like ‘man-cold’ sickeractually sicker.

Sigh.  One day – One day it will be my turn for chicken soup and ginger ale.  Sadly, that day is not today.