It's official - Norwalk (credit to the cruise industry - if not for the outbreaks they had all fall, we'd still be calling it "stomach flu") has struck in the Casa Turiel. The boy, after giving positive signs of coming around Wednesday, had a minor relapse last night and a slightly bigger one earlier this past morning. We called the doctor, who wasn't worried (it's practically an epidemic around here lately), but told us to make sure he gets an much fluid as he can take, and to take the cereal out of the bottle. He's been very fussy all night, but finally conked out around 11 (at which point I went downstairs for my delayed workout.
Unfortunately, Jane got hit hard by it today, too - it wasn't pretty. I've just had a minor brush with it, it appears. I was a little queasy last night and this morning, but I seem to have pulled out of it. Either that or I'm waiting my turn. Hopefully it's the former, because right now I have to stay healthy to take care of the other two people in this house.
Fitness update: I started working out again in the middle of last month. So far I'm doing pretty good - I ride my recumbent bike for about 25 minutes, 4-5 days per week. I'm also trying to take the stairs more at work. No dieting, no maniacal fitness regimen. I will never be an athlete again, and I'm finally acknowledging it. But I decided that does not exclude just getting into moderately better shape and hopefully losing enough weight to drop down a pants size or two.
Just because there's no way I'll ever wear a size 36 waist again doesn't mean I won't feel happy in a 40.
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