Fevered fun with socks...

Things got a little loopy around here yesterday:

Had to frog the heel and foot I powered through despite the fever...it was, uh, a bit creative to say the least. As long as I was at it, thought perhaps a sacrifice to appease the evil Fates of Reversai was in order. Something's just gotta reverse this bad mojo we have rolling.

You know you're seriously sick when...

...you find yourself totally enthralled by the crazy oil painting people on PBS.

(for those still managing to keep track, #3 and I are still in the thick of it and now The Big Boy just brought #1 home from school totally fevered too)

I am not going to die...

I am not going to die, I am not going to die, I am not going to die.

It just feels that way.

In fact it is just a nasty fevery achy flu.

But I am not going to die.

But I am very out of the Sock Madness running, for which The Big Boy has been thanking all manner of deities because now perhaps I will start taking care of myself. But I think someone else has to do that at this point because I just want to lay here on the floor. The floor is good. Cool and gooooooood.

Heart.Ache.

We're home.

There's a hole here...a big one.


I don't know how to fill it. He's missing and I hurt.

The tears started as soon as the plane touched down. Waves and waves and waves of ache.

Our little girl dog is so not OK. She crawled to the door when we came home. She's scared. She's going to be coming everywhere with us. I can't bear to leave her.

The Big Boy is very sick. Major league flu sick. In bed feverish can't even think sick. #1 and #3 show signs of possibly heading that way. Moan. I need to fall apart and I have to be the one holding it together. Somehow I have to hold it together. Some one has to hold it together. Us together. Right now I need to be strong. Steel. Stone.

Doomsday ahead...

Got shamelessly drunk at our datenight dinner last night (yay grandparents!) due to the big boy plying me with $10 glasses of kiwi sav blanc...needless to say no progress was made on sock madness' newest Reversi gansey pattern, but the time was indeed well spent. ;)

Plus side:

The weather is beautiful, wish you were here (Indian Rocks Beach just outside of Tampa).

It appears you can consume multiple gin and tonics and still knit coherently if you also swim and sweat profusely.

Big scary down side:

Tomorrow looms large in my psyche. We head for home Saturday morning, so have figured to tell the small people about Willy tomorrow. (found a pic of him snoozing that I had posted on The Chum here BTW) Oh how I dread that. We lost my parent's dog just before the holidays and it was very hard on #1, #2 as usual took it in stride, very circle of life, and #3 in true two-ish style still asks after him everytime we visit. I think telling them will be the equivalent of ripping my heart out of my chest with my bare hands....

A Wally World respite...

The hub and I woke this morning determined to turn this mojo around. (though the FIL is now sick....but I absolutely refuse to contemplate the infectious implications of that right now)

Despite my prophesy, we did indeed find Busch Gardens open and delightfully slow this morning. We had a fab day with #1 and #2. There were hippos. There were soggy rides. There were french fries. There were several free beers.

Oh yeah, and we found a kick ass french bakery within walking distance. Complete with french baker. #1 has rightfully declared the superiority of the croissant as a bread form.

Much better. A bit peaceful, or at least calm.

...and I managed to not cry a once.Until now that is when I noticed the big gaping hole in my heart again. The next few days I hope are as good as today...but I want to stop time. No more passing minutes to bring us closer to hell please. Let's just stay here in purgatory please.

Nothing's really real until we get home. Until we tell the kids. Is reality strictly necessary? Isn't there a way to get around that? No? You're really, really sure? Well bollux that.