Gastro rarely occurs in our household but when it does, it’s never without drama and devastation.

Last week daycare was shut down for 3 days straight due to an outbreak.   While the twinlets were in turbo mode throughout the whole time they were with me, being quarantined was obviously necessary.

With lots of nomadic traveling from playground to playground and a bit of iDevice parenting, both children and frazzled mama survived.

Just as we thought we made a lucky escape, Friday night saw some vomit episodes at Grandma’s house.   Straggling pieces of carrot were precariously pulled out of one twinlets’ hair.  A quick dash and save to the sink for the other.

Poor Grandma.  She’s barely recovered from the boys’ impromptu brown shark fertilization of her garden back at Christmas.

The nasty bug was only a 24 hour dilemma.  Phew!  By Saturday  the twinlets were  back to their tornado selves.

Due to strict regulations from the local council (who have no idea what it’s like to have spewy kids or have completely forgotten) we needed to get a letter from the doctor’s to say they were fit to return to daycare and had no vomiting, diarrhea or fever for the past 24 hours.

Medical Centres are a nightmare at the best of times.  Sunday afternoons are diabolical.

I’ve said it on many occasion, but it’s arduous parenting moments times like these I make a quiet tribute to Mr Jobs for saving my family’s sanity.

Where would we be without iPads and Toca Boca apps?

After 2 hours of waiting, we eventually got to see a doctor.  The twinlets had just started to lose it and on the way into the office, K-Bear had a meltdown in the corridor.

Thinking our boy was scared of doctors,  the GP told us K-Bear had nothing to worry about.

“Oh no, he’s crying for the iPad…” I tried to explain.

“So they’re spoilt, then…”

Great. A judgey wudgey GP.

Blood quietly boiling, I kept my composure.

“When you have twins, you do what you can to keep EVERYONE happy…” I hissed.

Grabbing our stupid letters, I marched out with my children, with Mr Surfer trailing behind me.

You would think at this stage, we were in the clear.  Smooth sailing into a brand new week.

Dinner time came along and one little twinlet was so excited to have an appetite again, he ate himself silly until he heaved it all up.  A two handed catch straight into my hands.  I always knew I would make a great left fielder in cricket.

After all that hassle in obtaining two measly letters that were essentially tickets to return to some normalcy, one of those is now null and void.

While Nunu made it to daycare, K-Bear is home with me.  Poor kid.

A bit of time apart never hurt a pair of twins.

Just as long as revolting stomach viruses are kept well at bay.