Bleak House

Jemma is on day seven (SEVEN!) of the stomach virus, and Annie came down with it, too, so now I'm on day seven (SEVEN!) of wiping butts and washing hands and being trapped within a 50-foot radius of a toilet with my children. The zen-like acceptance of the tethering that I exhibited early this week has given way to bitterness that we are missing out on the last, good bit of summer sunshine and beach days. I feel so sorry for the girls and their sore little bellies, and I feel (less) sorry for myself as we've had to cancel plans and modify schedules to make sure one of us is always near.

Luckily, Jason and I have remained (so far) healthy, so I've been able to scoot out of the house around 6:00 every night (eleven hours a day of nursemaiding being plenty, thankyouverymuch) for various activities. I biked on Monday, swam on Tuesday, saw Brandi Carlile at Meijer Gardens on Wednesday (to cap off three weeks in a row of fantastic outdoor entertainment there), and then there was last night.

Last night, our training group biked and ran the actual triathlon course as a group. We gathered at Manhattan Park at 6:30, got a little pep talk from one of the coaches, and then we were off: 17 miles out and back on Fulton and around the lake, then around the lake again - this time on foot - for 4.9 miles. The air was perfectly cool and crisp - maybe 68 degrees? - and the sun was sinking lower as we passed the football field, where our home team was kicking off its season with a victory in a packed house. It felt pretty great, all in all, and I feel like I got a big mental boost, just knowing that I can put those two pieces together before the big day. We stood around in the parking lot afterwards, feeling victorious and surprised at what we could do, Connie and Katie and I quite pleased with ourselves, to be honest.

Today, it's back to trading shifts of nursemaiding with Jason (I went out for yoga, farmer's market, and an errand this morning; now Jason's off on a long bike ride for the afternoon) and settling into a weekend at home since we've had to cancel our plans to go up north. I'm not sure what we'll do, except to say that the seven days I've been mostly in the house already have caused me to go a little stir-crazy. I can tell this because at one point yesterday I started thinking I might as well wash windows (taking breaks every 20 minutes to assist someone in the bathroom) or plant my fall window boxes, or something that would at least make staying at home feel productive. And you KNOW I don't wash windows, ever. Who knows? Maybe tomorrow, in the 85-degree sunshine, I'll be inside again, wiping butts and cleaning a closet or two.