Good Tidings of Comfort = Projectile Vomiting

Happy New Year, y'all!  The last couple of weeks have been kind of a blur, nothing much interesting went on other than we were all attacked by the plague flu, which decided to strike on Christmas Eve.  Nothing like projectile vomiting to celebrate the birth of Christ.

This whole holiday season was full of last minute decisions.  Upon realizing that we would rather be waterboarded rather than to take the four of us plus now two dogs in a Honda CR-V for 12ish hours, we traded vehicles kind of spur of the moment.  I now drive a bus Ford Expedition.  2007.  Rad.  I now need new cool sunglasses and a cool haircut to go with my "I can take the entire neighborhood to soccer practice" mobile.  It is roomy, which is good, because Sampson (our mastiff) will soon take up the entire backseat.  By himself.

Not to be outdone, The Hubs decided he was ready for an upgrade from the ol' Neon (it's okay if you want to laugh.  I've laughed at that poor car for almost five years.) to a mid-life crisis Mustang.  It's pretty sharp and ridiculous all in one.

Anyway, we made it to Kansas just fine, spent our retirement in gas, but got to have Christmas with my family.  Captain Awesome was anything but awesome on Christmas Eve, whiny and crabby, and a complete pain in the rear end.  He didn't want to eat, didn't want to drink, didn't want presents, his diaper was dry, so he sat on my mom's lap, just kind of being an asshole the entire time.  So we do presents (which was awesome, I was completely surprised by everything I opened this year - well, except what I wrapped for myself...lol) and I take the little guy to take a bath (which usually perks him up) and get him in his jammies.  We're snuggling, watching some cartoons, and lo!  Projectile ravioli!  Seriously, it went a good three feet.  I was kind of impressed.  Well, four bouts of puking later, he finally slept for about four hours straight, and was just completely zombified the rest of the trip.  Poor kiddo.  The Hubs and my bro had it, too.  I didn't get hit with it until after we got back, and about two days after I started feeling better, Violet got nailed with it.

BUT!  JOY OF JOYS!  School started today - finally - and we're all back to being healthy.  Kind of.  Little guy has a fever, but his breath is so disgusting, I'm pretty sure he's getting ready for one of his last teeth to come in.  That, and he's chewing on one of the dog's rawhide sticks like it's a life source, so I'm just going to chalk it up to teeth.  I reeeeeeeeeeally needed him to take like a 7 hour nap this afternoon, but we don't always get what we want, says the Rolling Stones, so Mr. Cranky Pants and I have been hanging out the majority of the day, getting nothing done, because he refuses to leave my side/get off my lap.

I hope everyone had a great holiday!  2012 started with the pukes, so there's nowhere to go but up, right?  RIGHT?