The sickies....

So the sickies invaded our house.  I think we might have finally stopped the invasion, but not before taking some heavy fire.

Jacey was the first to fall.  In the middle of a restaraunt.  Right before we were to celebrate a suprise birthday party.

I don't think that was the suprise the friend had intended.

Needless to say, we left.  (Tatum and I eventually went back and celebrated, but not before another wave of attacks occurred on the way home.  It was a brutal attack).

She had an evening and a night's worth of the sickies, laid around for the remainder of the next day, then was fine.  Luckily, her attack fell over a long weekend, so we had the Monday off to recover.  Tuesday was the first day back for everyone, and everyone went to school, feeling fine.

Wednesday morning didn't go the same.

I took some heavy fire.  It was a slightly different army than the one that had attached Jacey, but a vicious one, nonetheless.  Daddy suggested I stay home.  I didn't argue.  Daddy headed off to work.

Then the army that had attacked Jacey doubled back in, trying for the kill.  It was almost successful.

Thursday's attack was directed towards Tatum, and luckily it was just the same army that had attacked Jacey the weekend before (since the other army was still attacking me).

Friday we licked our wounds and assessed our damages, trying to recover and build back up our gear.  Friday night, the attack landed on Kellen.  It actually stayed on Kellen longer than the girls (but not quite as long as on me), and he fought for a little longer than I anticipated he would.  The weekend progressed and so did the battle lines.

By Sunday afternoon, we we gotten a dose of fresh air, some playground adventure, and our first real meal since the attack had begun. 

Now it's Monday, and everyone is back at school and work, and I think the sickies are gone.  The battle grounds have been cleaned, and there is no longer signs that a battle even took place at our house last week (I mean, except for the empty Lysol containers, half-empty bottles of Purel). 

I don't want to fight that battle again any time soon, although if I could bottle the end product of the few days of it, I might have a best-selling diet aid on my hands.