There is a reason behind my silence of late.
Resolutions. The moment I made one everything fell apart. I had all these great intentions to go to the gym so regularly that the scanner would address me by name. I decided I would double up my workouts because I'm too impatient for long drawn out projects. I was going to become a health queen after the holiday feasting. I was going to bring my 5k time to 20 minutes.
That was before chickenpox, phase one. Little Sister got it first. Loads of spots on her body, but luckily, her face was mostly spared.
I had one week to whip myself out of zombie mode, clean up the house, and do laundry in anticipation of Big Sister's first slumber party! It was a great success and the girls will probably not remember the haggard apparition who in slurred, approximative French implored them at 1:45 to please go the ---- to sleep.
I barely had time to pop the last balloon when the next onslaught started. Chickenpox, phase two, decended upon Big Sister and Little Sister decided to develop Bronchitis. So began week three.
Somewhere during the week, Little Sister began scratching again. The doctor had said this was normal given that she'd just had chickenpox. Then she had constipation, cold hands, and started complaining that the back of her neck hurt. The Monsieur flew home from work to spend the evening at urgent care with half the town's under 5's.
With the next day being the Monsieur's birthday, and his present being tickets to the opening match of the 6 Nations Rugby Tournament, we hoped and prayed it wasn't too serious that we would feel guilty about leaving our less than healthy children with their grandparents. So with laxative cocktails in hand, we headed to the city of lights...
End of Part I .....
