We have angered some travel gods, I'm telling you.

Last time we went to BC, E threw up on our way to dinner with friends. The time before that, my dad came down with the stomach flu the day we arrived. The time before THAT was the time we all (me, my parents, my parents-in-law, my sister and her husband, my sister--in-law and HER husband) had the Yelling Vomits.

This time, we flew in on Saturday morning. E had the sniffles but she also had a seat to herself on the plane, and there was a tv show about puppies on.

Sunday she woke up HOLLERING and coughing and full of boooooogers. It took ages to pull her out of her weepies, which is unlike her. My sister and her husband were over, and my brother and his wife came over after. Eleanor fluctuated between delighted and inconsolable. There was a lot of this:

but also a lot of this:

Monday we went to the clinic because her fever was extremely high.

She seemed to perk up Monday evening

but by Tuesday morning, she was a wreck again.

By this point my mom was sick, and E was a two-person job. You couldn't offer her water at the wrong time without her weeping inconsolably on your neck for half an hour. Fortunately, her aunt and uncle came over Tuesday evening to take a shift, and we all got a bit of a break.

Wednesday morning, she broke out in hives.

So we went back to the clinic, and Eleanor ate Cheerios from between her toes

until we walked into the examining room, where she immediately fell asleep.

Her fever was down and her lungs were clear and her ears were fine, and there was nothing we could do about the hives except give her cold baths, which we did. Like, three times a day. The hives were brought on by heat, so she spent a lot of time in the nude. My sister and her husband came over Wednesday night, bringing Eleanor's puppy-cousin with them and keeping E from losing her damn mind.

Thursday was much the same. Dad and I tried to keep Eleanor comfortable and amused and only wipe her poor, sore nose as often as we had to, Mum emerged periodically from her lair to lie on the couch, all the aunts and uncles came over in the evening to take turns consoling Her Fragile Majesty.

All this time, Eleanor was barely eating, so we let her have whatever she wants.

Babies who don't eat, you terrify me. By Friday, she was perking up, and we were headed out to Chilliwack. We headed to the lake with her cuzzie, and the sun seemed to ease her weary bones.

And then knock them out.

Saturday she was better enough that I felt ok letting her out of my sight, so I went garage sale-ing with my sisters-in-law while Eleanor drank half a pool.

Sunday we woke up before 5 am to fly back home. Eleanor napped 5 hours total that day.

Our whole trip revolved around seeing people with new babies. We had to cancel everything. There was no way I was going to give this amount of sick to a new baby, PLUS Eleanor was so much work I didn't think I could leave the house with her. My best friend had a new baby, and I didn't get to see them, and now she's moving to New York. It seems absolutely unreal that we've been sick every time we've been home. My sister says that we're not allowed to leave the house for a week before our next visit so that there will be less nose-blowing and weeping and hanging over the toilet, and more of this: