So, its been an interesting few days here at the Huffman Homestead. Friday, Huff the Babe’s teacher at our Mother’s Day Out program came to me and said, “So don’t panic, but…” (And of course, what did I do? I began to panic) “…a child that was here yesterday was just diagnosed with the flu today.”
Then, she went on to say that Little Man wasn’t his normal, bouncy, happy self. I went to check on him and, sure enough, he was burning up and kept moaning like he didn’t feel good. Thankfully, we had less than an hour left in the day at MDO, so I made a frantic call to Huff the Hubs to meet me at the pediatrician’s. I ran home, dropped Huff the Tot with her MeeMaw, and quickly sanitized everything that Huff the Babe had touched, chewed on, or looked at.
Thankfully, Huff the Tot tested negative for the flu. But he’s teething really, really bad. How do I know? Well, one, the pediatrician said he was teething (his two bottom teeth should pop out any day now!) and two, when we went to Target, he puked. Big time. Projectile. And left a huge puddle on the Lego aisle.
It scared the crap out of me! I’m used to him spitting up, but this was like that pie-eating contest scene from Stand By Me! He seemed fine after that; not fussy, no temp, and just as happy as could be. We went to bed that night hopeful. Then I woke up Saturday with an unbelievably sore throat. I didn’t even have the energy to cry. I was just annoyed.
The rest of the day, I was gargling with salt water, taking Sudafed, and alternating Tylenol and Ibuprofen. Sunday, I felt worse. I had my mom check my throat. Sure enough, I had white spots in the back of my throat. (For those not “in the know”, white spots usually=strep throat.) I skedaddled over to an urgent care and, thankfully, tested negative for strep, but got some antibiotics just in case.
I was able to rest most of the day, thanks to Huff the Hubs, and figured today would just be a movie/pajamas kind of day. As HtH and I lay in bed last night, he said, “This weekend really sucked.” Little did we know what would happen next.
Not even an hour later, Huff the Tot starts crying and wants to get in bed with us. I agreed because I was exhausted and didn’t feel like fighting. About 10 minutes later, I’m cupping my hand and catching her vomit so it doesn’t get all over our comforter. All the while, I’m trying to stay calm and not focus on the fact that I feel as though my throat has been punched a million times by Mike Tyson.
Needless to say, we got zero sleep last night and the Huffman Homestead is officially under quarantine. So please, if you’re sick keep yourself (and your kids) home. Or at least use hand sanitizer, cover your coughs/sneezes, and get a flu shot. This being-sick-while-caring-for-sick-kids thing is no bueno.