One year hurl-dle

Our house as been astir with birthday tidings as the twins had their first birthday. We were all swept up in the celebration of a hard year finished and the excitement of their darling, little lives. We partied. We celebrated. We joined with super friends and family and it was a good time. The boys were showered in sweet, generous gifts which are like gifts to Chris and I as well.

As we recovered from the excitement, family returned to their respective homes and friends returned to their lives, a little virus was lurking. During the party preparation, we made a few jokes about how we hoped that the twins wouldn't get sick during their first birthday party like poor Neil did on his. Perhaps it should have been a clue at Neil's party that he wasn't feeling well when he refused to eat the cake I had baked for him. (It had nothing to do with my cooking, of course.) After having enjoyed the majority of the party, the secret virus revealed itself as Neil hurled what food he had eaten that afternoon. At the twins' party, the contrast with Neil's was evident as both boys eagerly, and messily, gobbled up their birthday cake. (It had nothing to do with the fact that Chris made their cake.)

At last! We got to celebrate a first birthday party without barfing!

Little did we know though about the secret virus. Perhaps it was laughing at us as it spread throughout our family, waiting until our guard was down, before it revealed itself. It first showed up the night before my husband's parents returned home. My father-in-law became ill but we thought it was due to his normally healthy diet being disrupted by our less than nutritious fare. But then, Dylan threw up. We hoped it was a coincidence and that maybe it was due to the fact that we had just started introducing milk to his diet. But then, Evan threw up. Then Neil threw up. Then I threw up and then Chris threw up.

Barf was everywhere.

Everywhere.

We scrambled for towels, sheets, bed spreads, diapers, anything that would catch, wipe up or remove the barf. It would be cruel of me to provide details that no one would ever want to hear so I'll just allude to how disgusting it was - I saw semi-processed food that I never want to eat again as long as I live.

The washer and dryer ran all night as we barfed and cleaned and barfed and cleaned. It started on Wednesday. Today is Sunday and Chris is the last of us to be recovering from it. So desperate to prevent a relapse of this insipid and evil virus, I stooped to buying Lysol instead of making my own green concoction (which had been my goal for the next time I bought cleaning solution). Screw that! I want chemicals, I want the equivalent of a virus-killing nuclear bomb to go off in this house to eradicate the demon. I'll be green next time.

So, the one year birthday has passed and the barf too seems to have passed. I'm hoping for a calm few weeks just to recover before Neil's 3rd birthday party. Let's hope that we don't have anything in store for us on that one.