The 2010 Plague...formerly called the Body Fluid Tsunami of '09 (warning..warning gross deets ahead)

Will is the Etobicoke version on the Black Plague.  He has the flu.  And now many, many people have the flu.  My sister, her son, my friend's husband Adam and her two kids (but man I had fun at that playdate), Steve from the coffee shop and his kid, another kid from the coffee shop ... oh and his daycare class.  I walked in there last night and it was like a horror movie.  I felt particularly sorry for the new kid whose parents were getting the rundown of the day and how she hadn't been sick when ...blah...scrap that and add her to the list of the fallen.

12 Days.  That's where we're at.  14 if you count me.  Will has had the flu for 12 days.  And we can chalk this experience up to one of those that would be one hell of a lot easier with a partner.  Let me give you some insight into baby/toddler flu.  It's not like a dog where you can hear this heaving noise and pick him up and throw him outside.  Nope, it's sudden and it's ahhh - how do I phrase it - shocking.  How can a tiny body hold all that effing barf!!!

That was December 28th.  Since then, I've washed more sheets than the Whatever Ranch outside of Vegas on a Friday night.  A week ago, I would have said that I can't get used to him regurgitating food and handing it to me.  Today, I ate some...safe to say my tolerance levels have changed have changed through the plague. (I also pulled two boogers the size of Detroit out of his nose today and felt like I won the Olympic gold).

Since the 28th..it's been off and on.  It was off for 20 hours before I decided to drive us to Barrie for a New Years party.  We pulled in the driveway at my friends place, he barfed all over himself - I changed him and we came home.  Oooh and we managed to infect my friend Christie...so add her to the list.  Happy New Year!

Yesterday he went to 'school' (I call daycare school) in jeans and blue socks and came home in khakis and pink socks.  You get the idea.  We woke up at 4:30 this morning.  I guess Will could only take sleeping in his own crap for so long.  Head to toe...it was head to toe.  Then it just kept coming and coming until 7am.  Now, it's stopped.  12 heavenly hours of nothing but farts that could rival my own on a chili type day.

So - this is what your house looks like after a 15 hour day with a 17 month old and a 45 minute nap.  See that goddamn snowman.  I looove the people who gave it to me, I do...but it sings "Snowy Snowy" to the tune of Mony Mony.  Please pull my toenails out one by one.

I want to admit something to you now.  For you not co-habitating with a toddler yet, this may surprise you - and for you old hats, I hope you'll respect that I can admit this.  A lot of motherhood is booooooring.  So painfully boring.  Absolutely there are moments of awesomeness everyday but rest assured there is a lot of boring.  I've got to the point that I accept that this is a fact and those who claim otherwise are liars.  They are the women who said they've never felt more beautiful than when they were pregnant.  Will has been asleep for an hour - it's the first hour in the last 15 that I haven't read the Cars book 10 times and had to sing "I guess that's why I didn't notice that police car" - lyrics by DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince - EVERY time he pointed at the cop car.

Cross your fingers for me people...we are at 13 hours and 40 minutes and counting.  A girl can dream...a girl can dream.

Oh and this is what the 17 month old looks like as his mother tries to ram an electrolyte popsicle down his throat.  He was WAY more down with the gatorade...and here I thought it was only for hangovers.