barf

On Wednesday, I bragged about how great it is having an older child who sleeps through the night, and Gavin spent the next night vomiting from 1am - 6am. I assured Gavin that it's normal for kids to throw up, and that when he grows up he won't do it as much, then I spent Thursday night vomiting from 10pm - 5am. I need to shut up.

Friday was a soggy blur of naps, movies, and tea. Children of Men was stressful, The Devil Wears Prada disappointed me because it did not, in fact, star Glen Close as Satan. I tried reading in bed and woke up 4 hours later with a fever, so took a couple ibuprofen and watched the last disc of Arrested Development. Mike picked up Gavin and made dinner, and then he got sick, too. I am hoping he is the only father who has been infected with our flu, and that everything is purged before Father's Day. Advance apologies to Marc and all the dads at Gavin's daycare.

Sort of a sad week.