So, I’ve been MIA around here lately. But not without good reason.

You see, over a week ago, Ana started having a random fever… or was it Emma? I’m not really sure at this point WHO it was because within a few days? They were both running a fever. A few days on, a few days off — I chalked it up germy, tired kids and sent their little behinds off to school when the fevers broke, without thinking much else about it…

… until Wes came down with the same thing. Ugh. On my good days, I entertain the notion that perhaps I have the gift of mercy. After all, that commercial about the kid who comes home from Africa for Christmas and wakes the whole family up with a pot of freshly brewed coffee? Makes me cry every time. But when Wes is sick? I’m relieved of any and all notions that I have the gift of mercy. This time was no different than the others, and after two days of him proclaiming that he was going to die (and he very well might have since I did consider smothering him with a pillow a few times), Ana and Emma both spiked huge fevers AGAIN. And I said ENOUGH! I made appointments for all of them to see the doctor, and three diagnoses later, we were declared a flu household. Ana and Emma were feeling better after a few days with no medication (they were diagnosed too late for anything to really help, unfortunately), but Wes is still fighting it, even after four days on three different kinds of medicine. That’s one nasty flu!

And me? Well, I have incredible immunity, apparently. I’ve had something that’s about the equivalent of a head cold, and that’s it. I attribute my amazing resistance and recovery to the fact that I don’t have the gift of mercy to make me weak.

Just keepin’ it real, y’all.