I hate sick.  

The past few days have been hard. I am fortunate that I’ve had remarkably healthy children, and so true that “sick days” really are few and far between. That might make it even worse that when we do deal with a sickness, no matter what kind or how many members of our family have it, it’s just no fun. 

Today, I’m running on very little sleep. So is Hubby. So are the kids. The boys have had hand, foot, mouth disease, and they’re exhausted, uncomfortable, and upset they missed trick or treating and are still missing school. We are all going a little stir crazy, and wishing we could at least go to the park. But we won’t- we will just wait it out until the fever is totally gone and their wounds heal a little. 

They’ve recovered quickly, thank goodness. But I know from experience that HFMD leaves its marks for weeks. They won’t feel the effects for that long, but I’ll have to explain them for a while, and assure other parents that they aren’t contagious any longer. I mean, I’m a responsible adult. I wouldn’t knowingly send my kids to school a) feeling badly or b) spreading terrible germs. 

That being said, it’s tough. We have an established routine, and now it’s been thrown off kilter. Bedtimes are skewed, naptimes are odd, meals are here and there (especially for the one who had worse sores in his mouth) and we are going stir crazy. We are ready for normal. The bigs have been asking to go to the park and the excuse of “but you’ve been sick” isn’t working that well. We’ve taken walks around the neighborhood (strapped in the stroller, of course) and played in the yard, because their energy is beginning to come back. But my little extroverts are tired of being homebound. 

So here’s to Tylenol and movie watching, and we’ll see y’all out in the real world this weekend. 

This post is part of my NaBloPoMo, where I publish a piece every day in November. Many of the posts will be writing exercises, sometimes straying from my usual style. 

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