For the last four days, my house has been a sick zone. Charlotte, Ruby, and Sterling have all lost their innards more times than I can count. Eden complained of a stomach ache but I have yet to see the same symptoms erupting from her. (Being sick might just be a good excuse to curl up with a good book, maybe?) I’ve done so much laundry that the house sounds eerily quiet when the machines stop whirling. It’s been a sad state of affairs, and while they are starting to act like life isn’t so bad anymore, we’re not out of the woods yet.
Charlie, poor girl, makes a very funny sick child. Her amazement over what she never knew her body could do has been ridiculously funny. That banana she ate and lost mere seconds later? It was the banana’s fault, and maybe she should try another one. She’s gotten really good at making it to the toilet. Sad thing to be good at.
Ruby just lounges around whining every so often and Sterling is so sad that his body has betrayed him this way. He is usually the one to stay well, and when asked if he needed anything, replied, “I just want to be done being sick!”. He’s determined he will never ever eat again, fearful of it’s repercussions.