It all started 14 days ago with sore throats and slightly runny noses. Nothing dramatic or worrisome. It seemed fairly mild, actually, for the first few days. Then the coughing and fevers started. It was pretty miserable. Then, at the peak of that misery, Austin, who had been the only healthy one up to that point, came home with a stomach virus. He was totally down for the count for 24 hours while I ran around spraying Lysol on everything in the house. It did no good. Two days later, everyone except the baby was moaning and holding their stomachs. While coughing and feverish. (I still don't know how our youngest managed it, but he appears to have avoided the stomach thing entirely.) We are still trying to train our digestive systems to work normally again, Austin is just now coming down with the respiratory mess, I feel like the whole thing is starting over on me, and Carter and John sound like a lung is coming up any minute. So we are coming to the end of week 2 of illness, with week 3 looming ahead.
The funny thing is that in the middle of all this suffering came two glorious days that felt like spring. I am always such an easy target for spring fever. One little whiff of warm air and I'm ready to pack off to the local nursery and stick my hands in some potting soil. Instead, sick though we were, we managed a walk in air so intoxicating it gave even a dismal week some sparkle. I know the weather got cold again, the groundhog apparently saw his shadow, and my family's health outlook is not the rosiest, but that one little sneak preview of spring was so potent to my susceptible little brain that I actually feel a glimmer of optimism.