As you may have gathered from my last post, our house is sick today. It started with DH bringing a cold home a week and a half ago. Just your typical congestion and sneezing. He was over it in a few days, and by the weekend I thought the rest of us had gotten lucky and dodged it.

Not so. I started sneezing yesterday and by late afternoon, my head was spinning. I went to the store to search for some fabric storage options and had to leave my cart in the middle of the aisle and go directly home because I was worried I might pass out. I spent the rest of the evening on the couch, shivering and being achy all over. DH ended up taking me up to bed and piling four blankets on top of me, then shoving a heating pad underneath me, which did the trick to snap me out of the chill.

The baby must have sensed something was up because for the first time ever, he slept seven consecutive hours. And then four more on top of that. That's a record for him, and was much enjoyed by us. Thank you, Chunky.

This morning, I still couldn't get out of bed without my knees going weak, so DH played Super Dad and stayed home. I slept the majority of the day (which I haven't done since... hell, since I was pregnant with Sawyer) and by mid-afternoon, I was up and around again. Only to notice something a little off about Sawyer. And within twenty minutes, something was really off, because he spent the next few hours going into random fits of crying and twisting around on the floor. We concluded that he must be sick as well, which was heartbreaking to witness because I knew how awful I had felt last night and couldn't imagine how confusing that must be to a two-year-old.

The last time he was really sick was with a 12-hour stomach bug around Christmas, and he slept through most of it. (That was also when he painted my beige carpet a nice shade of orange with his puke. Fun times!) When he gets colds, it never seems to bother him. So seeing him this out of sorts was a new thing for me.

He went through bouts of wanting things, then not wanting them, crying, screaming, and then being happy again. He wouldn't even talk on the phone to Grandma, which is when I knew he must really feel awful. I finally convinced him to cuddle up on the couch with me and watch iCarly, and he seemed to feel much better after that. It probably also helped that his Tylenol kicked in around then. We called Grandma back and he croaked out in the saddest little voice, "I siiiick." Talk about a heartbreaker!

He's in bed now, so hopefully he'll feel better in the morning. Now I just have to hope and pray that Beckett doesn't get a nasty case of it, because he's a drama king on a normal day so I can just imagine the show we'll get when he is sick for the first time.