The weekend started out just fine and the weather was beautiful. I even spent some time Saturday pulling out weeds and dead plants and doing some of the garden clean-up I never got around to last fall. Sunday things were not so hot.

I woke up with a sore throat and a headache, but those went away after I got out of bed and got moving. They were replaced by stomach cramps and waves of nausea. It was finally agreed that Justin would take all three children to church and I would stay home, because both the option of going to church or staying home with the baby by myself did not appeal.

Justin really had an easy time of it, because when a dad shows up somewhere with three children everyone takes pity on him. He basically never had to hold or deal with any of the children once he got through the church doors. When he's leading singing and I'm sitting alone in the pew with all three, somehow no one takes nearly so much pity on me. Frankly, I think Justin's probably more competant than I am at dealing with all of them, but there you have it -- sexism in action.

A Chinese speaking congregation meets in our building and had invited the English speakers to a Chinese New Year celebration after church, so they stayed for that and ate lunch. They got home around one o'clock. By two o'clock or so, Justin was feeling queasy. At first, he thought he'd just eaten too much Chinese food, but the feeling kept getting worse and worse. Clearly he had the bug too.

Thus in a great and unfair move, the children both got sick, got over it and then their parents were felled at the same time. The two of us were lying around in misery, while the kids who feel just fine now were running around wreaking havoc. It's definitely the worst when both parents are sick and the kids are well.

Neither of us is exactly well today, but the world goes on and so does work, school and everything else. I think I'll spend the day on the sofa hoping not to die.