Worst. Saturday. Ever.

Sooo...moving days are hard enough as it is, right? And Wendy and I were bone-tired already from painting Wed-Fri. Then last night at about 11:30, Connor throws up. (btw...2 days ago, Cosette threw up in the car) So Wendy takes Connor into the bath, and unpacks clothes, towels, etc. that's needed to clean him up. I clean up the mess in the bedroom, bagging the sheets and mattress cover to go on the back porch. I won't attempt to describe the horrendousness of the smell; your imagination should suffice.

So we set Connor up with new sheets on his mattress in the hallway, since we weren't going to clean the carpet while Cosette was sleeping. We're back in bed by midnight, knowing that the move is going to be even harder.

Then Connor throws up again...at 2:00am. And afterwards Wendy feels sick and goes to the bathroom. Then at a little after 3:00, I feel sick and go to the bathroom...however while I'm "on the throne", I suddenly get queasy, grab the trash can nearby, and hurl. Great. So while I'm in and out of the bathroom until about 8:30 this morning, Wendy's waiting for her turn to hurl. She escapes with just a few dry heaves, and I start feeling better and sleep for an hour or two.

It seems to have been a wicked, albeit short-lived 12-hour bug that laid out the three of us. (And is probably what hit Cosette on Wed) Needless to say, we weren't picking up the U-haul truck at 7:00 am, and I called U-haul and asked them to postpone our scheduled pick-up for Sunday, since we ended up stayng in bed recovering till Noon (for me) and 2:00 (for Wendy).

We're still very lethargic and aching, but I'm going to try and take some essentials over to the condo so we can sleep there tonight. ugh...