Those with weak stomachs are advised not to read the following post

The kids and I were sick all winter long, and even well into spring, but was that enough to keep the viruses of the world happy? Noooooooooooooooooo.

Now we are visited by the nastiest of nasty viruses, the stomach flu.

Did you know the stomach flu is not even technically the flu? What we call the stomach flu is actually called gastroenteritis.

But whatever you call it, my family has it, and, well, things are not pretty around here.

With his usual impeccable timing, my husband is away on business this week. With no one to stay home with the kids, I can't even go to the store. Luckily, no one wants to eat very much right now, so our groceries are stretching a lot further than normal.

Each kid had their day, from youngest to oldest. My daughter kept things nice and convenient by refusing to eat all morning before she started throwing up repeatedly, and she did a fine job of keeping it off the carpet and furniture. Well done, daughter. She was better and eating again before bed, and the whole next day everyone was fine, so I figured we'd seen the worst of it.

Not so. The following day, my son ate a huge breakfast, then decided he didn't feel so good and he wanted to lie down on the couch. Next thing I knew his breakfast was all over the couch. I'll be honest, I still haven't completely cleaned that up, and I have no idea how I possibly could. Either I've got to burn that thing or I'm hiring a professional to clean it. But right now I don't have the energy to do either one, so we're just not using the couch.

The next day everyone was a little weak, but fine overall. I was hoping it was just their young, less developed systems that couldn't handle the bug. But then it was my oldest son's turn. His stomach was not convenient about it at all, choosing midnight as the ideal time to rid itself of all that pesky food he had for dinner. He ended up in my bed, retching throughout the night, where he mostly managed to hit the trash can. His pukiness lasted most of the day today, but by evening he was ready for some saltines.

I had a lot of plans for this week, all foregone. Instead I have kept busy cleaning, disinfecting, laundering, and lining trashcans with plastic bags.

And now, apparently it is my turn. It may just be that days of dealing with vomit has finally gotten to me, both psychologically and because, let's face it, it's awfully hard to clean up puke for three days without being exposed to the germs yourself. Anyway, I have spent the afternoon and evening in a battle of wills with my body, trying to convince it that it does not want to throw up. (Look, I know this is gross, but honestly I could be a lot more descriptive if I wanted to. And, you were warned.)

So far I am winning. But if my kids are any indication, I might be fighting a losing battle here. So that's my story about the stupid viruses. I have to stop now, because writing about all of this is making me even more queasy.