Why did I give my daughter a baseball bat to bang on the floor? WHY?? I need a baseball bat to hit myself over the head.

Summary of my past few weeks

• Teen daughters dance show, took up a bit of my time. Preparing props and all.
• WAIT!!! Let me rewind....the flu has been in my house off and on since Christmas.
• Doctors appointments
• My Birthday last Friday! Cause for celebration? YES! Cause for stress? Well...errr, HELL YEAH! When you show up at Beni Hana with your party of six (you, hubby and your four kids) and expect it to be a fun night, and then your six year old tugs your sleeve right when Chef Cesar (Cesar is a Japanese name?) begins his culinary show, and she has her hands over her mouth saying "Mommy, the smell makes me want to throw up" and suddenly you notice her cheeks are as red as a Crayola Crayon, and her forehead is burning up, and how in the hell did your daughter develop the flu on the 13 minute car ride from your house to the restaurant, and please dear god do NOT let her puke all over the Beni Hana grill, and WHY IS THIS HAPPENING ON MY BIRTHDAY??? Well, HELL F*CKING YES YOUR BIRTHDAY TURNS TO STRESS! That is o.k., there is always next year. I am also going to write a post about my Birthday Celebration, pre-puking!
• Six Year old daughter has flu!
• Fourteen year old daughter wakes up this morning with 'the worst sore throat ever' and a fever that may even make the devil himself die from heat stroke. 
• I work from home on Mondays. Six year old daughter is upstairs. Fourteen year old daughter is downstairs. Home office is in the back of the house where you can't hear either one of them. Fourteen year old daughter has taken to texting me when she is need of medicine, tea, or just to let me know again, that her throat hurts like she has swallowed needles. Six year old is throwing up off and on (mostly feels like ON) coughing, and clutching her stomach in pain. She does not want me 'to go downstairs mommy...ever!' But mommy has to go downstairs, so she came up with what she thought was a good idea. 

'Just bang the bat on the floor honey. I will hear it when I am downstairs.'
I have never regretted a sentence more than I regret that one.

Please! Please don't make me walk up and down anymore. 

If you are wondering why I don't just have both daughters up in my bed. Or both daughters all snuggled downstairs on the couch.
Don't'cha think I had thought of that?
Both daughters are pretty lethargic and really just want to stay put. Neither wanted to go out on the couch. Which shows how sick they are. Usually the couch is 'fun'. Nope, not today.

Wait! Be quiet..........shhhhh......is my phone buzzing? Oh, yes it's a text from my daughter. She wants me to shut her window. Her fever has broke, and now she is freezing.

Enter the dungeon of a fourteen year old sickie! 

Wait....Be quiet again!! Shhh, what is that pounding noise? Oh, the baseball bat.

"I will be right there honey. I'm downstairs shutting your sisters window and making her some tea."

"O.K. Honey, you can really stop pounding the floor now. Give mommy two more seconds. I'm runnin upstairs now."

"Mommy is here honey. What did you need?"

"My tummy hurts."

"You wanted me to run upstairs so you could tell me that again?"

Deep Breaths. Deep Breaths. 

*I am now waiting for the hubby to get home from work so we can take the girls to Urgent Care (as their doctor was leaving early today) 

Since I am sure they will want to hydrate my six year old with an i.v., the hubby is definitely going, as i will need his help for that. 

Do you think the urgent care will allow baseball bats. I mean if I am going to be hopping between the two daughters rooms, she may need it. 

Or I may need it to knock my own lights out.

SUMMER I CAN'T WAIT FOR YOUR WONDERFUL SEASON OF SUNNY, FLU-LESS SPLENDOR!

Oh, by the way, J.R. did not write this post. The tired zombie that has taken over J.R.'s body wrote this. The real J.R. is running up and down the stairs.