Quiet house sitting Mama.

Been almost a month. . . . for good reason, I will add.

But before I do, I will pause and enjoy this quiet house. It is a rare treat these days.

All was well and good, we were managing quite well with two small children - had a system and a plan and even managed to make relatively healthy dinners for us.

THEN, something very evil happened.

Warrick got rotovirus. Maybe from the giraffe at the zoo. We don't know. Many children in the US are routinely vaccinated against it, but need to receive it very young in order for it to be effective. Warrick was born in Australia. We delayed his immunizations. We missed the window. No big deal. Never heard of rotovirus. Must not be that bad.

Not true.

Spent the day at the zoo with Aunter Val and Whit and Jay. Great fun. Sunday morning Warrick is particularly whiney and then throws up a little. Maybe a fluke, get dressed for church, all are loaded and ready to pull away and HUGE PUKE into the car seat. Delicious. Not a fluke. Not going to church. Begins the onset of a 6 day drama. Starts with puking, obviously, and then turns to, I hate even typing this word, diarrhea.

Again, if you are easily grossed out, you will want to stop reading right now. Lots of parts of my life are not gross, but it seems I am compelled to write about icky things. Sorry. There are lots of other blogs about food and decorating if you need to stick to clean stuff.

Rotovirus diarrhea is not like your regular stuff. I will liken it to an elephant urinating. Like a large valve has been opened and substantial amounts of fluid simply spray out. It was uncontainable. I don't know why, but Huggies did not take rotovirus into consideration in the laboratory. Their products get a big fat zero from me on this one.

I will not use the word "leaking" because that is not what happened. "Pouring" is much more accurate. So much so, that if I was careful, I could remove the diaper and carry the fluid in the diaper pouch to the toilet and pour it in. True. I'm not exaggerating. I did many many loads of laundry and used many many clorox bleach wipes. At one point, I changed 4 of these in a short 20 minutes.

Enough of that. It was so sad. He didn't even stand up for two days in a row and didn't eat for 5. He lost 3 lbs. His face was sunken and sad. We made a trip to the ER on recommendation from our Pediatrician. He was okay. On the edge of dehydration, but okay. He couldn't go down the stairs because his legs were so weak and he got scared, "Momma hold you!" (interpretation: Momma, carry me.)

So, he's fine now. Actually the next Sunday, he managed to climb out of his crib. Just when you think your child needs more rest . . . . Brett and I couldn't figure out why he was talking incessantly during his nap time. We sat downstairs on the couches listening for nearly an hour (and studying, etc.). Then I realized he was saying, "I got you. I got you." (interpretation: I'm in a precarious situation and am afraid and could use a little help please)

Definitely. Balancing horizontally on the top rail of your crib for an hour is certainly precarious.

Impressive too, I might add.

So the next week he decides he's not napping.

And this particular week I decide I'm crazy.

This particular week I don't make dinner.

Don't clean my house

Don't do laundry.

Don't shower often enough.

Don't make phone calls.

This particular week I listen to my 2 year old hollering and banging on his door and waking his little sister.

This week, our disciplinary tactics go through an overhaul.

I DO, though, have someone in my hands almost all day long. Bless them.

From 3.5 hour naps to nothin.

Wow.

Those of you working professionals who don't think this is life shattering are ignorant, by the way.



Fast forward to today.

We are playing trains and I build a rockin' track with two bridges and a turn around loop. We play for half an hour. James makes several rescues when Percy and Rosie drive off the tracks. Bob the Builder's cement mixer even tries it out.

I say, "Warrick, in 5 minutes we will go upstairs quietly and take a nap. If you do not bang on your door or get out of bed or cry out loudly, you will get a special treat" (pronounced, SPAY - shull teat). If you disobey . . . . . . I can't add sound effects here, it's unfortunate . . . it's the opening measures of a spooky classical piano song. Can't remember the title or composer. Whatever.

Anyway, can you believe it? He goes upstairs, crawls into his twin bed (we moved the crib to our room so Vera can sleep in it. You don't put your small child to sleep in the same room with the larger child when he is still screaming with enthusiam, "TACKLE BABY!" on a daily basis) and he even gets under the covers and tightly closes his eyes. Thank you Jesus. What a sweet gift.

I love obedient children. I love my disobedient ones too, but life is so much more peaceful, cheerful, restful when we obey.

Cringe. How convicting . . . .



A couple of other intersting tidbits to finish.



1. Vera has been giggling and laughing ALOT. It's contagious, obviously.

2. Warrick is becoming quite skilled in the driving of his John Deere tractor from Grandpa O. and Uncle Kevin. I fear we may be accused of child labor should onlookers misinterpret . . . the child size tractor almost exactly matches the REAL John Deere mower tractor.

Today, he steps on the foot pedal while holding onto the handlebars with one hand and the back of the seat with the other. Bumping along sideways standing . . . he says, "Mama! Like trash truck!" Comparing it to the boys we wave at every Monday morning who ride on the back of the trucks. Yes, sweet son, it is very much like a trash truck.

I really enjoy this season of interesting and usually very accurate comparisons.

3. Vera was an adorable strawberry for Halloween and Warrick was a dragon/dinosaurish creature. Too much cute.

4. Last night, Warrick was hugging his new friend Miles, who is also a big hugger (finally . . . I'm so glad there is another one). They fell to the ground in a hug and Miles now tries to escape the grasp. Brett tries to pull Warrick off Miles and accidentally lifts them both. Clarification. Brett lifts Warrick who will not release Miles and so Miles is lifted by Warrick. Miles is 3 and a half. Warrick is not. Brett shook Miles out of Warrick's man-tangle onto the couch. Thankfully, Miles' sweet mother threw her head back and guffawed. I so wish I had it on video.