The plague has been plaguing our house for about 10 days now. First Gizmo had an unexplained fever with no other symptoms. Then Peanut had snottiness, scratchy throat and generally sad eyes for almost five days but no fever. Then this weekend the husband and I both started feeling icky. I got better. The husband got worse and has stayed home sick two days in a row, something I don't think he has ever done.
I've decided I need to find a way to make a kid-germ bomb much like a flea bomb. I would make millions of dollars.
The husband and I are planning a child free weekend. We have plans for a dinner at a quaint restaurant in a great hippie town just south of where we live. Beyond that, we haven't decided what to do.
I need to clean the house but that seems like a waste.
Maybe I will just sleep past 6:30 a.m. instead.
While we will be enjoying a quiet weekend, my mother-in-law will have the girls and her two brand-new lab/golden retriever puppies. She is a brave woman to take all that on.
When we asked Peanut this week what Gramma should name the dogs, she said Big Teddy Bear and Little Teddy Bear. I think Gramma is still looking for names.
I made melted crayon hearts for Peanut's Valentines this weekend. While examining their awesomeness, the husband asked where I learned to make them.
Pinterest, of course. When I asked if he wanted to see, he turned down my offer saying that it sounds like once you look at it, you are infect with some sort of plague.
He's kind of right.
We've been playing Simon Says lately with Peanut.
While in the bathtub tonight, she asked to play the chipmunk game. I had no idea what she was talking about so I asked her how she played it. She looked at me like I was crazy and said, "You know the game where the chipmunks tell me to do something."
As in Alvin, SIMON, Theodore chipmunks.
For about a week, I had the (fear, excitement, freak out) that I might be pregnant. For someone who had her tubes tied after the last baby, this was a bit concerning/overwhelming.
While discussing the possibility with the husband, he looked like one of those teen boys on 16 and pregnant who can't seem to process the fact that he is going to be a father. I am surprised I didn't find him in the fetal position. (And he accused me of doing "these things" for the blog. Untrue.)
A couple days later when I realized that no, I wasn't pregnant, just a bit wonky, the husband actually gave me a pouty face. He said he had worked through his initial shock and had gotten to a good place with the thought of a third child.
I have to admit, I did too.
Still doesn't mean I wasn't very relieved to find out I wasn't pregnant. I can't even imagine dealing with that right now.
Anything happening with you?