Two for the Price of One

Last week Layla had a stomach virus. One full day of vomiting up everything I cautiously tried to feed her. Pretty soon the diarrhea kicked in. Then, GLORY, I thought we were out of it.
And then last night happened. I was up feeding Layla around 4:30 because, well, she's not sleeping through the night yet (sigh) and I hear Jude crying. I thought maybe it was a bad dream. So I go tell Ben he's crying. From Layla's room I hear the cry-coughing. "Oh no," I think. And then Ben is quickly carrying the crying/coughing Jude to the hall bathroom. He didn't quite make it and there was orange vomit all over the hall carpet, bathroom floor and bathroom counter. I later came to the grizzly discovery that Cheetos were the culprit of the unusual color that still tints my carpet (that's right, haven't quite gotten it out yet). So, I put Layla down to help Ben clean up the vomit, and our son, when she crawls directly through the vomit on the hallway floor. After getting Jude cleaned and changed, and crudely cleaning the floor, I realize that Layla has had diarrhea, so I change her diaper. I proceed to breastfeed her and then put her down, and just as I'm setting her down, she starts the coughing. I have never feared the sound of coughing until now. And then she lets loose, and it is a lot. So, the cleanup process begins again.
As a side note, may I say that I am very thankful for a partner who does his part, and is happy to help. However, he is also slightly a baby when it comes to vomit. Instead of comforting the puking child, he saying things like, "EW!" and "Sick." and "That smells disgusting!" I find that this doesn't really help the sick child to feel better... but I digress.
After cleaning her up, Ben tells me to go to bed and he will put her down. I love that man. And as I lay there, I prayed that a) my children would be healed, b) that Ben and I would not catch it, and c) that they would at least not throw up anymore that night.
Thank the Lord, we didn't hear from them again until morning. Jude did wake up with diarrhea though.
We tentatively gave Jude a bagel this morning, which has since thrown up. But only after injuring his hand on the treadmill. Talk about kicking him when he's down. Poor guy. I hate watching my children suffer.
I am, however, so thankful for healthy children. It really puts things into perspective when I think about children with life-threatening illnesses. Father, heal them.

So, that has been the tale of my exciting week; you're welcome.