When a fart...

Isn't really a fart.
My poor little son learned this terrible lesson this week as he caught some sort of stomach bug. This is his first bout of diarrhea while using the toilet instead of a diaper. What ensued was my son essentially pooping all over the house Monday and Tuesday as he tried to fart and found out that there was something more behind it. Its a lesson we have all learned the hard way.
He was on the mend on Wednesday and feeling fine. Our washing machine broke over the weekend while I was washing the bedsheets he threw up on. So, I was doing laundry at a neighbor's house because we had all run out of clothes. I started feeling strange and decided to try to nap while the kids did. I woke up feeling like a sledgehammer hit me and called S to come home early. He tells me that he can't because he is teaching training. I limp along until he gets home at his regular time and then go to bed.
Luckily, W obliges me and only wakes up twice. When S's alarm goes off at 5:30 am I tell him he needs to stay home because I am dying. He does, but again he has important business to attend to so I am obliged to rise out of my death bed to nurse the baby and also watch both kids while he dials in to meetings. Yes, I am still a little bitter about that but whatever.
Enter me this morning, feeling better than yesterday but still not 100%. I am standing by the fridge getting A some breakfast when I feel like I have to fart. Except 31 years of experience has taught me that sometimes a fart isn't just a fart, especially when you have a stomach bug. Thankfully I made it to the bathroom in time. And now you officially know more about me than you ever wanted to know.
Stay tuned for a blog about the terrible anxiety attack I had last weekend and how I think I have some mild Post Partum Depression.