I feel like there was a pretty serious blogging hole I fell in. Having a legitimate bout of influenza is not as fun as the books make it out to be, and it doesn’t exactly ramp up the productivity. So, courtesy Instagram, let’s do a lame-o replay, shall we?
(I can hear you clicking away, and I don’t blame you)
So almost two weeks ago, we all came down with the flu. Then the dog got sick. Then I sent a text to my mom in which I disclosed that I was “a sobbing mess”. 24 hours later, she pulled up in my driveway in a rented car after having hopped on a plane from Tennessee to come help out.
Aren’t moms the best?
This was perfect timing, since I was scheduled to be on CatholicTV’s “This Is the Day”, but my entire entourage was laid up in bed. So my mom drove with me to Boston, where we took selfies, unexpectedly found ourselves being filmed at daily Mass, and got to chat about my book to a captive audience (you can see the show if you click on the link up there a few words back).
We would have stuck around and raised some hell in Boston, but it’s hard to justify sightseeing when your husband is running a fever, wracked with aches, and is the sole caregiver for six fluish humans. So, gracious martyr that I am, we came right back home.
The next day was Ken’s birthday, which was pretty much the saddest birthday ever, because not only were the eight of us still sick, but my mom came down with it by then, too. Literally, this is the only picture of the entire day:
The flu was brutal. You’d wake up feeling ok-ish, then after the taxing activities of walking downstairs and making a cup of coffee, you were spent for the next five hours. Fevers. Coughing. Zero appetite. Six o’clock bedtime. It was ridiculous.
But today I knew we’d rounded the corner. I went for a run with River and while I barely made it a mile and a half, I did make it. There were zero fainting spells. I also managed to shower, go to the grocery store, teach a full day of school, and make two meals today. Pretty much that means I’m a rock star flu survivor.
And John-Luke has stopped stomping around the house, screaming belligerently at all! the! things! and is back to his normal, charming self. Which may be the best thing of all because that child is a beast when he’s sick.