Well we survived it. I might have high-fived it... on its way out the door. That was a doozy. We surprised the kids with a visit from our friends from Minnesota. But before that I surprised the kids with a lot of cleaning because HOLY MOLY WE LIVE IN FILTH. Mostly because no one ever remembers to flush the toilet but also maybe because I can't stay caught up on laundry to save my life. So we cleaned and then our friends arrived. We played and played and played.
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| Hank snuggled Monica like he's never snuggled me! |
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| Will caught Beau up on the latest happenings since we last saw each other in MN |
We got everyone fed, bathed, and in bed. No small feat when there are 8 children and only two adults. That night though, things started to go downhill. Monica's oldest son was complaining of a tummy ache. He stood up from the sofa and started barfing. I instinctively grabbed a bag and ran towards it. (They say that's when you know you're a mom- when you run towards the barf instead of away from it. Almost like a firefighter runs towards the flames, police run towards the danger, soldiers run towards the battle. Like that but just way less heroic. The only thing at stake here was my carpet. So, still important to me obviously.) Anyways, as he's barfing (and hitting my arms more than the bag), I see a giant SPIDER out of the corner of my eye. I yell for Monica's nephew (12yo) to kill it. Except 12yo's are very literal and I didn't want him to smash it with his hand and possibly get bit. So I told him to kill it! But with a diaper! Or something! Anything! He threw the diaper at it. I seriously just started laughing. Covered in puke and now a killer spider is loose in my house. Merry Christmas. Can I tap out now? But just you wait, there was more fun to be had. A lot more fun. And when I say fun I think you all know by now that I mean barf.
Since our entire street has had this stomach bug for a hot minute now, we knew it would be a 12-24 hour deal. Luckily it was closer to 12 and everyone was playing nicely and vom-free the next day. We kept most of the activities outside since I feel better about fresh air and germs mixing.
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| Monica's truck proved to be a very effective, very expensive play pen |
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| Watching a Christmas movie with Willie and his little crossed legs kill me |
We had some really nice weather while they were in town, and one day we even let the kids go barefoot. They literally played outside all day long, and they all mixed well with the neighbor friends too. It was like a big ol' block party outside every day.
I tell you what, feeding eight children has completely turned me off to having eight children. Not that I was ever really considering it but holy cow. #1 we'd be completely broke. #2 that is a lot of work. #3 that is an impressive mess three times a day.
Molly has been d-y-i-n-gggggggg for the neighbor down the street to come over and bake Christmas cookies with her. Well the stars finally aligned and they made some sugar cookies. No one was more disappointed than Molly to learn that the dough has to harden for a few hours, but in the meantime they made a loaf of banana bread. And it was instantly devoured upon its exit from the oven.
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| So it turns out my oven cooks very unevenly |
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| my little babushka |
At some point, it started getting chilly. Of course, anything below 65* and we are all complaining of the cold, so I can't remember when we all started worrying about our impending frostbite, but it was probably premature. It didn't even seem to help when Monica's neighbors would text her weather updates from MN. "-34*? Shoot, it's 56* here but I swear it feels colder than MN."
All of these pictures are probably out of order. We pretty much did the same thing all week- make a crap ton of food, disperse food to hungry natives, throw clothes at children, shoo them outside, hours of playtime, inside for more food, prison baths, bed. Those kids played so hard and slept so well.
Rick arrived the night of the 23rd and was greeted with much enthusiasm.
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| Christmas Eve mood |
Around 4am on Christmas Eve, I heard Molly bumping around in the hallway and finally came into my room. I was crossing my fingers and toes she was about to tell me just had a bad dream..... but instead, she had barfed all over her bedroom door and carpet. Lovely. We cleaned up the carpet and Molly and got her situated on the floor in the room with Hank and me. She threw up randomly for the rest of the morning. When I opened the bedroom door at 6, I was staring at Sam on the toilet (because why shut the door amiright) and he clutched his belly and said, "ohhhh I have diarrhea." Yayyyyyyy
He's like me and you can basically mind trick him into never throwing up, so luckily his illness began and ended with the diarrhea. Will "slept in" that morning (and by slept in I mean I sorta forgot about him and suddenly realized it was 8am and we were missing someone). I was terrified as to what I'd find behind his bedroom door. Surely it wouldn't hit all my children at once.... But surely it did. Will had not only puked at some point in the night, but he'd rolled over and gone back to sleep in it. (Molly used to do the same thing. Be right back, gagging at the memory.) AND he pooped! So that was a fun morning. I showered him and then started in on the cleanup and sanitizing process. I was suddenly grateful that we had fed the kids corndogs the night before and not tomato soup, like we originally planned. Cleanup would have looked a lot different. Luckily it seemed to be a one and done sort of thing. Will acted like nothing had ever happened and literally ate from the moment he got out of the shower until he went to bed. Molly lazed on the couch but I don't think that was so much her feeling bad as it was her milking the situation to watch tv. Whatever. The rest of us were outside and it was nice to not have to deal with that every 24 seconds.
So the worst had passed! Yay! We were done with the sickness. Until Rick came downstairs Christmas morning and told me that Monica had been up puking all night. Luckily she's a champ and the show went on, even though I'm sure she would have much rather been in bed all day sleeping it off!
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| Christmas breakfast (or snack, according to how you look at it) |
I actually facetimed Steve while the kids were opening presents, so I don't have pictures of any of it. But they loved their new things, and they loved their friends' new things too, as evidenced by Will claiming most (if not all) of Beau's new cars.
We turned the kids loose outside after that because the neighbors were already out playing with their toys, and Santa was easily 10x more generous there than at our house. We also focused solely on outdoor toys this year since Louisiana livin' allows us to live outside 90% of the year. Thankfully our neighbors did too and got some fun stuff! (Like that roller coaster- Will is obsessed! Terrified me the first time he went down and hit that curb, but he loved it!!!)
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| Also not our toys |
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| This one's mine |
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| Hard at work on the new art set |
We had minimal injuries Christmas Day, which was pretty much miraculous. Our neighbors got some of those bubble suits that you run into each other with, and between the crusty old mailboxes and the random (nonworking) light pole in the grassy area of our circle, I was almost certain we'd have to make at least one run to the ER. The worst to happen was Sam's chin made contact with the neighbor's tooth. Slight mark and bruising but nothing serious. We stayed outside all. day. long. We even skipped lunch. Will skipped his nap. It was insane. Around 2:30 I thought, oh haha I will go make some dip to bring out, and while I'm in there I guess I'll check and see how long I need to cook the ham for. It's been a few years since I've made one. Well the correct answer was RIGHTTHISSECOND so I ended up not going back outside and stayed in the kitchen to cook for the rest of the day.
Cooking would have not been remotely possible without all the extra hands to hold babies and referee big kids.
Oh my baby's first Christmas! Time, slow down! What's even scarier is that he is wearing the outfit Will wore last Christmas! (Size 18 months was only slightly baggy on him...) As happy as he looks, he noticed that I neglected to hold him myself the majority of the day and punished me that night. I remember stupidly thinking, wouldn't it be nice if he slept til 3:30 in the morning? Then I could get a solid 4-5 hours. But then ten minutes after I crawled into bed he coughed and woke himself up and ended up being awake UNTIL 3:30 in the morning, so joke's on me. I'll never wish for anything like sleep ever again.
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| This is what 7 years of no sleep looks like, folks. And my Christmas day sunburn. |
Christmas Day was Will's last day of being 1. It snuck up on me so fast. I was still telling people he was "18 months"! (To be fair, I can't keep track and basically say "18 months" the day after they turn 1 until the day they turn 2. I like to ballpark it.) I seriously (SERIOUSLY) debated holding off on celebrating his birthday on another day. I was so tired. SO TIRED. But as I was showering that night, I realized that mothering is MY JOB and even though society tells us that the holidays are for "slowing down" and "vacation", it's like the Super Bowl in my line of work. So much cooking and cleaning and activities and laundry and celebrations and god forbid we don't make some mutherfuggin gingerbread houses and throw a birthday in there too (in addition to Baby J's birthday, of course) and it's pure madness. I did not want to skip one of my children's birthdays. Or postpone it. I needed to just suck it up and DO IT. So I finished showering and went and laid everything out for the traditional birthday waffle stack the next morning. Changed out the Merry Christmas banner to the Happy Birthday banner. Dug out the #2 candle I miraculously remembered to buy a week or two prior. Looked around at the destruction and called it a night.
Worth it. (It always is.)
It was super rainy and freezing cold that morning, and our friends were headed onto greener pastures. Or at least warmer temperatures. Florida, specifically. So we said see ya later, and stayed in our pj's all day. We watched Thomas and opened a few gifts, made a cake, and had hotdogs for dinner.
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| Oh my goodness this handsome devil |
We changed into fresh pj's before heading to bed. And I attempted one more picture of my newly minted two year old.
He was too far gone with his choo choos though and couldn't be bothered. I love that boy so much I could burst.
After getting the kids in bed, I reheated some of the Christmas dinner leftovers and instantly regretted it all. Then I went to bed and prayed Hank would let me sleep a few hours. Then suddenly, at 1am, I woke up. Not to a crying baby. But to a gurgling stomach. And the only thing I could see in my mind was someone turning ham with a spoon. And let me tell you, when your stomach has ham in it, and it's gurgling, the last thing you want to do is picture more ham. And for it to be moving. Sadly, despite disinfecting everything in between making a cake and catching up on laundry and birthday fun, I contracted the dreaded stomach bug. I sat in the bathroom and attempted to talk myself out of throwing up. I can't. I hate it so much. There is no one here to rub my back. Or take care of the kids. Or listen to me whine. But then I threw up anyway. Hank was screaming by that point. I cleaned myself up and mixed a bottle. I can sleep when I'm dead, right?
