Sick babies and yummy Chinese food.

I've now watched the movie, Ice Age, approximately 1 gazillion times in the last few days. It's a cute show and all, but I'm getting just a tad sick of it.

The reason why I've been lolling around watching movies (well, just the one, with the occasional break for Spongebob) is that last Friday, Child Six caught something. He vomited, he had diarhhea, he was miserable. By Saturday evening, he was a limp noodle, kind of going in and out of conciousness, pale and weak. I decided to take him to the urgent care clinic, but the triage nurse at the clinic immediately sent me up to the children's hospital emergency room. At the ER he had a lovely drip inserted in his hand (that's another post altogether, although he didn't have enough strength to fight as much as he felt he should) and was given Gatorade and crackers by the nurses. By the end of his bag of saline, he perked up enough to eat two crackers (his first food in 36 hours that stayed down) and have a couple sips of Gatorade. He also started yelling to go home, so I knew things were looking up. The doctors decided he was okay enough to send home (yay!) and he's been convalescing ever since, poor thing. All he's done is lie around weakly, demanding my constant presence and watching the above-mentioned movie when he wasn't asleep.

By Sunday evening, I knew he'd suddenly turned around and that his fever wasn't coming back. I don't know why. He was still weak and limp, but he did make the effort to bite one of his sisters. It just seemed like a good sign. He's now pretty much recovered today. He is up to his usual mischief and isn't so very grumpy. I'm so relieved.

Today is Child Two's 12th birthday, and as has become birthday tradition, I'm getting her out of school and taking her out to lunch. Gotta go. She has chosen Panda Express. I will be making a valiant effort not to eat 13,000 calories at lunch. Wish me luck.