For those of you who know my oldest son, you will understand when I tell you that he is clearly not feeling well. First, he has barely spoken more than ten words today. This from the boy who never stops talking, EVER. Second, he let me carry him upstairs for an afternoon nap without so much as a single protest. He even gave me a kiss and almost pushed me off the bed to roll over. He, the boy of "Onnor no nigh-nigh" (translated "Connor no night-night") and "No Nap!" at even the mention of the word sleep. And perhaps most telling was last night, as we were sitting in the family room after dinner. The boys were finishing up their afternoon movie (because what else do you do when it's cold, snowy and no one seems to feel that great). Alexander was busy playing and watching the movie, and Connor and Sawyer were content simply lying on the couch watching the movie. Connor turns to me, and for the first time EVER in his life, says "Onnor tired, Onnor bed." He then proceeds to scoot himself off the couch, walk over to the stairs, open the baby gate and head up to his room for bed. And his brothers were still awake, even poor Sawyer who was feeling the worst of all yesterday. It was only 7 o'clock, and he usually manages to stay up until at least 8 if not 9. Clearly, Connor is not feeling all that well either.
I will simply say anyone who enters our house does so at their own risk at the moment. All the cleaning (and I mean ALL the cleaning - every scrap of bedding in the whole house, the bathrooms, the floors, even opening the windows for a few hours in 30 degree temperatures for some fresh air, and quite a few cans of Lysol later) doesn't seem to help whatever it is we're sharing at the moment!
