And the Gift Goes On

That title is for Ron Millender. He needed a new song in his head. =)

I don't know what I did wrong. I washed my hands. I took my pro-biotics. All my defenses were in place and yet, I was attacked from the North and the South. (Sorry, that was the least graphic way to put it.) Here's where we stand so far. There are six of us. Four have been taken down. One is living under a cloud of doom. And the other one?

If you track with us long enough you will notice that through every family illness one name is conspicuously missing from the list of casualties -Mamoune. We can't explain it but we have a theory. Apparently living in a third world country and a crowded and filthy city like Port-au-Prince where she breathed and ingested goodness knows how much dirt creates a ridiculously strong and almost inhuman immune system. And while on the one hand, it's one less scream in the night, one less bucket of muck to clean up after; on the other hand, her inexperience with physical illness has left her with little to no compassion for the rest of us. (ha-the child just gave me a real time example to share with you. She just walked by and said "Mom, you should taste that sausage we ate, it's so good." Sweet and thoughtful for wanting me to enjoy something that she obviously liked? YES! Clueless of how the idea of eating sausage effects my weakened stomach? YES! ) We think it would be a great movement in our bonding process if she would, just once, get sick enough to totally need us. It hasn't happened yet. Super Girl continues to hang tough.

Back to today's report. I do feel better. And on the bright side, it's been one week since I made my 6 pound declaration. I stepped on the scale this morning and YOU'LL NEVER BELIEVE THIS -I've lost 4 pounds!!!! I'm over half way there and I barely even worked out. That chocolate plan is paying off. whoohoo! Okay, okay, I know it doesn't count and as soon as I get back to eating without the involuntary and immediate recycling process, I'll be right back where I was. But for today I'm going to sip my chicken soup, nibble saltines, and put a heating pad on my back while basking in the knowledge that I am four pounds lighter. ;-)

Lest you think that vomiting is the only excitement around these parts, I'll share the other culprits of sleeplessness that haunted us last night. #1-Bella. The girl cried forever! I have a theory about this, too. Wednesday night she slept on the couch with mom. Thursday early, early morning she ended up in the bed with mom. So by Friday night, the old crib was lonely. It took Tim several trips and coaxing to convince her that she wasn't coming to sleep with us. And finally she settled down. In the midst of cry-fest came #2-the trashcan tippers. A couple of guys walking down the street at 1:30 am (yea, that's a good sign) were apparently annoyed by our emptied garbage can that was still out by the street. So, one of them knocked it over. A big, empty can hitting the ground is rather loud and startling and didn't help at all with Bella's crying issue. Oh well, I just hope whichever one shoved it over had the good sense to wash his hands. Or maybe I don't.

And last but by no means least #3 -the caroler. A little after two o'clock in the morning a gentlemen was walking by singing "The Little Drummer Boy" very loudly. I'm serious. Not making this stuff up. A theory? I just happen to have one. =) I'm guessing he was either drunk, nervous (you know those times when you are frightened and start humming any and every hymn you can think of -is that just me?) or he was just truly filled with the Christmas spirit. Whichever the case, despite my nausea, the insane hour, and the bizarreness of it all --it made me smile. What else can you do when a cheerful, soulful voice goes pah-rum-pum-pumming down the street?

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...