All Is Well. Mostly.

Just wanted to let y'all know that my Baby Girl's fever broke last night and today the lovely, little, pink spots arrived. My keen momma instincts were correct and I made the Roseola call 3 days early.

Oh yeah. I'm good.

And as I told Monk today... one childhood illness down...countless more to go! Woo-hoo! Me so likes it when these little things are done and OVER!

However, my little Hope not only had a little feverish Roseola going on, but added a nice little side of intestinal virus. Oh, yes. Fun days we've had around here people. Fun, smelly days.

I was so relieved that her fever broke yesterday afternoon. She had perked up ever so slightly and we saw a glimmer of our normal, mostly happy-go-lucky little girl. Ah yes, happiness at last. And some sleep to boot. I was stoked. Especially about the sleep.

And then there was me. I had to go and mess it all up.

I had eaten a chicken tender salad for dinner and followed it up with a mini chocolate bar chaser. I was completely and totally content.

And then I got gluttonous.

Right before bed I came up with a bright idea of consuming the last of 6 old, glazed donuts I had purchased in a moment of utter weakness. For my children, of course. And Monk.

Anyway, that last donut was calling my name and who was I not to answer? I obediently answered its beckoning and consumed that sticky circle of sin and went to bed a happy, slightly diabetic woman.

Until around 3:15 a.m.

That is when stomach cramping of laborish proportions awakened me. Stomach cramps and horrible, horrible indigestion. The kind of indigestion that says, "if you move, I will make you throw up". I laid in bed and writhed in pain and then decided I had to find a Tums if there was any way I was going to sleep again.

I tumbled out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen (hey, isn't that a song?) and began looking desperately for the Tums, begging the Lord to please not let me throw up. I looked and looked and still couldn't find them. Being that the situation was becoming desperate, I woke up Monk.

By this time I was moaning profusely and assuming laboresque positions, trying to find some relief from the wretched intestinal cramping I was experiencing. The yoga teacher would have been SO proud of my breathing! Monk then assumed the job of finding the Tums, but not before offering me a Rolaids.

Uh, no. Rolaids are no match for Tums, my friends.

After he looked and looked and looked some more, he came back in the bedroom offering to go to Walgreens to buy me some more. Can y'all believe that? My hubby was going to drive to Walgreens at 3:30 in the morning to buy his sick, pregnant wife some Tums. Man, he's awesome!

But folks, the Tums train had already left the station and I was beyond Tums at this point. I acquiesced and finally agreed to a Rolaids.

And the Rolaids done me wrong! Oh, yes they did!

It was at this moment that I grabbed my mouth and ran for the bathroom. Can you guess what happened next? If you guessed I barfed my guts out then you, my friends, are a pretty astute bunch because that's exactly what I did.

All because of a wretched, stale donut.

Believe it or not, I felt relatively better after this episode. Minus the excruciating intestinal cramping, of course. Which in time, finally subsided. It was now after 4 am and I happily, willingly and exhaustedly went back to sleep.

Today, I've felt a little...eh. Still exhausted and still crampy. I most definitely am not craving donuts anymore. The fact that Baby Girl passed her nasty, little intestinal germ on to me matters little. She is better and that is what is important. And she's smiling her dimpled smile which makes me feel better.

All in all, despite fevers, crying, cramping, spots, vomiting and lack of sleep....it's been a pretty good week.

Y'all have a great weekend!