My mum makes a mean fettucine. I remember coming home from my brothers wedding in 2008 at 1am and peering into mum's fridge to see a bowl of it. I grabbed some of it, heated it up and sat at the kitchen table to eat. Odd really, considering I had eaten half my body weight at the reception, didn't want to drink that night and couldn't quite getting into the dancing. So not me. Little did I know I was pregnant.
A year ago, the night before I was admitted to hospital to have an emergency gallbladder operation, I heated up another bowl of that fettucine. I couldn't eat it and spent the night being sick.
This week I had another bowl of it, and spent most of early Friday morning and Friday being sick. Goodbye fettucine. My body just can't process you after having an organ taken out and I need to make sure I don't eat certain foods. Such a shame, because I love my mum's fettucine.
As is always the case, once I started to get over it all, Liam got sick. Last night in our home resembled a laundrette. Sheets in the washing machine at 2am, swapping beds, broken sleep, baths to get temperatures down and everything else that parents do to make sure their kids get better.
We went to the doctors early this morning and it seems most kids in Perth have the same thing too, judging by the salad bowl the toddler next to us was chucking up into.
Oh how times have changed.
I'm glad we are all starting to get better, because this mumma can't afford to be sick right now. Lots of work to do and I am missing my old bright sparkly self.
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