While Nick's been getting over pneumonia, I think the rest of us have been succumbing to the bug that bit him. The pediatrician, when she saw Mariah, called it mycoplasma--all I know is, it's kicking us, hard. Nick is at the stage of thinking he's better and overdoing it, then crashing. (Today's a crash day.) Mariah refused to believe she was sick and threw a birthday party for a friend on Thursday--necessitating a trip to the doctor on Friday. The pediatrician mentioned at the time that I might want to call in for a prescription as well, as my throat was sore and my energy completely drained. I waited until today to fill it, but finally gave in when I woke up too early for the third morning in a row, unable to sleep for the pain in my throat. Mark started coughing yesterday and has uncharacteristically spent most of the day in bed.
A houseful of sick people is no fun. I'm glad there are no babies involved, though--no one's too terribly needy, so we're all just lying around watching movies, reading the paper (I've already finished the crossword puzzle, for a miracle!), knitting, and napping. It's a lovely day outside, and I wish we could enjoy it more, but it could be worse.