Saltines.

Guess who was sick this week? Me. Again. I actually brought Rudy to the doctor's Tuesday night after DAYS upon DAYS of intestinal distress that were starting to distress both me and my laundry schedule, and on the way out, I had to walk real fast to the bathroom with a 14-month-old on my hip to vomit. Bleeugh.

And then it happened several more times, and Rudy woke up Wednesday morning and couldn't keep down the water she'd just sucked out of her sippy cup. Eventually Todd left for work, Heather came to get Marley out of the house for a while (Thank you!), and Toot and I spent the day being groggy and miserable, eating saltines and sipping tiny amounts of water from skinny, skinny straws.

Did you know that Rudy can actually be cranky sometimes? Here she is only momentarily distracted by the word "kit-ty" and her nuh-nuh. I worry that her surprising bursts of tiny, Tooty rage mean that we're in for another fastidious and unrelenting toddler. But we're better equipped to handle that. Marley really broke us in, hoo boy. Whenever Emma or Owen "act up," I'm all, "Listen kids, I've seen Bean explode and whatever you think you're pulling right now is NOTHING to me."

We're both better this morning, but really. What the F is going on with my immune system? I have always considered myself a relatively fit person. But in the past few months, I'm the only one in my extended family who's had the flu, a bacterial throat infection, and then this stupid bug.

The only good part about throwing up is giving your abs a workout, as far as I'm concerned. Maybe I've jump-started a late winter workout regime?