Sometimes it's okay to give up.

I've decided to give up. I'm done. I don't think my fussing, worrying, self-torture, misery, heartache, anguish and self-doubt is helping my children get better.

I'm looking at this in totally the wrong way. I've been so worried about what I'M doing wrong I forgot who's suffering. My boys. They don't care if I used a bleach or lysol cleaner, they don't care if the sheets are washed in hot or cold water, they don't even care if they wash their hands before they eat (ick). All they care about is if Maman and Papa are there when they DO get sick. They're going to get sick. I can't prevent it. There's no way around it. They WILL get sick.

The fact that all of October they've been sick more than they've been well, I guess that's just bad luck. Not much I can do there either. They've been afflicted with the most random things and as much as I want to blame this, that and the other thing, what's happened has happened. Not necessarily because of one thing or many things, because of what I did or they did, they just got sick.

Basically, I'm done blaming myself. I think for the good of everyone here, I'm digging myself out of this damn hole and getting back in the game.

I'll take it one day at a time, one illness at a time, and if plans change, school is missed, the washing machine gets run into the ground... so be it. I'll take stock in bleach, lysol, paper towels and latex gloves. It'll do us all some good.

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