In Captivity

You guys. After that post about a snow day, Dave went on the road to Shanghai. And the day he left he called to tell me had the stomach flu. Oh and remember how we shared a dish at the restaurant last night? In other words, your flu is in the mail. And remember how the restaurant is Indian food? Not the best meal to eat right before your body starts violently ejecting everything.

Dave got struck by the flu while traveling. Via bus then plane he had to use public and airplane restrooms and suffer through the indecency of flu symptoms in those environs. Then he had to have the stomach flu and recover from it in China, not the best place to start out with intestinal problems. In any normal scenario, I would have felt SO bad for him. And really, I did feel bad. For about 10 minutes before my own flu began. Do you know who has no time for sympathy? A woman with stomach flu in a foreign country caring for an infant and a toddler. AIN’T GOT NO TIME FOR THAT. In fact I started having thoughts like ‘having the stomach flu isn’t even HARD for him, he’s in a HOTEL! with HBO! and silence! and sleeping pills! and zero children!’ Meanwhile I was vomiting in the kitchen sink while V stood behind me saying things like ‘that sounds like a waterfall!’ Yes, he had it easy. Rat bastard with his luxurious stomach flu.

The merciful part about this flu was that the violent parts didn’t last long. Within 12 hours of it beginning I was able to, with the aid of inadvisable amounts of ibuprofen, take over raising my kids where the TV and my breast had left off. Within 24 hours I was feeling almost normal, only slightly more tired than the normal amount of tired. To say I was grateful for this is a gross understatement.

The thing is, during my flu a record setting snowstorm had settled in over all of Honshu. It started on Friday and didn’t stop until late Sunday. It was snow. And snow and snow. It made that last snowstorm look like a handful of flurries. Then, just in case we weren’t sure about Mother Nature being in complete and total control of us, it sort of sleeted on top of all that snow and then froze in to a charming ice layer.

Finally, finally, finally, it stopped. And we bundled up and marched around for a while and breathed outside air. And I started an hourly countdown until Dave’s return. Because 6 days with two kids is one thing. Not the easiest, but doable. Six days with 2 kids plus a stomach flu plus being shut in by a storm is almost too much. Almost. Too much.

We survived though. The following is a pictorial of our days in captivity. 

Every single bowl and pot, with all utensils, plus a bottle of sprinkles. And release.

The silent observer.

Just keeps coming.

A prisoner on the patio.

A princess in her tower.

With all her friends.

Working on writing.

Drawing with her entourage.

We read books. All the books. Twice.

Out for some air.

It seemed like they really had a connection.

I kid you not, at one point she had a meltdown about cake so intense I ended up putting  candles in this bread and singing happy birthday to her. Then re-lit them and did it again. I swear.

Working from home means two hands on the keyboard, one foot on the baby seat. Finally the sun started shining. Finally. And then daddy came home.

 

Fin.