Dear Diary,

it's now day 5 after the mass sickness took over our home. i look outside the window at the beautiful falling snow and can only dream of the out of doors. what the air must smell and feel like, the bitterness touching the end of my nose. Memories of going outside as a young teenager, waiting for the school bus with wet hair, and the fun of crunching the frozen pieces of hair as we chatted with our friends on the way to school. All of that seems a distant memory now.

The natives have started to get restless. Especially the cute blond one. She speaks of activities outside of our house, like children's museums, and seeing the animals. She is hoping for her mommy or daddy to take only her because she is not sick. Until I get out the medicine, and her voice changes and there is pleading for drugs that might cure her imaginary sickness.

Seth is a trooper, I have to give him credit. He is currently suffering through the most horrendous medicine I have ever smelled. (cleocin) The pungent smell is reminiscent of a farm from down the street on hot, humid, summer days. He's now chasing the taste down with fruit punch flavored Motrin, or watermelon chewable Tylenol, depending on the current rotation of the meds.

Every 4 hours is a well orchestrated event, with charts, and medicine spoons, and bottles of fun flavored and colored magic potions. And of course, hopefulness that these concoctions will actually be effective on the flu germs that are plaguing these poor little bodies.

McKee is now sequestered to his bedroom. I feel awful about this new development, but it had to be done. He threw up on my bed this morning, after sleeping in my room from 3am on. He woke up with a high fever again, as the medicines had worn off, and he was getting dizzy. He made it safely to my bed, Mike helped support his spindly body as he tried to walk. He is now hopeful of the magic wonders of the powerful Gatorade. I will try to visit him often, but I am also fearful of exposing myself any further to the terror that is the flu.

The little one seems to be hanging in there as of yet. Tyler shows no signs or symptoms of flu or strep throat (which Seth has been suffering from since Jan 7.) He is currently enjoying his life cereal in his highchair, which is so symbolic of his personality. He loves life, and enjoys putting things in his mouth.

You may wonder how I am fairing as the matriarch of this germ ship. I seem to be unscathed for the most part. The lack of sleep at night is starting to wear on me physically. I have not exercised in over a week, and am starting to feel the blahs of blubberness. I also have the startings of a sore throat, but nothing I am too worried about, as it is kind of dry in the house currently, and I believe it is just a small irritation.

Today is hopefully a day of healing, and of calm restfullness. Every effort will be made to keep things sanitized and who could forget the washing of contaminated sheets? It should prove to be another intersting day if nothing else.