I'm sure you're all wondering about how we fared last night. First of all, I got all that laundry folded and distributed to the right rooms (thank you very much), woke Jon up and we went to bed. Three hours later, Alex joined us. Feeling much better and wide awake, I took him and William downstairs for a midnight viewing of Micky's Twice Upon a Christmas. After attempting to nurse William to sleep, I laid him across my chest to burp him.
William yarfed.
ALL OVER ME.
Now, I'm not the type to freak out over spit up, and unfortunatly, am known to walk around with quite a bit of it on my clothes. You can only imagine the magnitude of this when you consider that I HAD to shower at three in the morning-- and I HATE to shower in the dark.
(Its just this thing about me-- I know, I'm weird)
And at this point, I'd give my left arm for a venti anything, but I know it will only end in a repeat of last night, and I don't think I can handle that again.
And you were afraid I was getting too lazy in my blogging . . . :)
6 comments:
Anne,
I am so sorry. We had the same thing happen to us the week before Christmas. Michael was sick, then Teresa, then Katerina and finally Patrick. I got it a few days before Christmas and then Bridget got it Christmas Eve. She almost didn't make it to mass. Nothing is as great as a family of 6 barfing and having the runs (I giggle every time I use that term) for two weeks. I lost almost 15 pounds that week because I just couldn't eat. Also, for some reason, sweets really turned my stomach. I only recently was able to eat anything sweet.
Good luck!
Ah the joys of parenthood...
Where was Norman Rockwell with his canvas and palette on Christmas Eve at 3:30 AM when Xavier came to get me because Simon threw up and "it's really gross"? We didn't even make it to the boys room when Xavier lost his lunch too, kind of a sympathy vomit showing that my tough-as-nails redhead has a weak stomach when it comes to such things.
Actually, I was counting my blessings in those wee hours between the wrapping and the nursing and the 20 minutes of sleep and the vomit, and it was all thanks to laundry. Indeed those selfsame piles recently referenced here saved my tired fanny. Simon had sullied a clean blanket folded in their room, and Xavier only added insult to a dirty pile of clothes in the hall, thus hastening their trip to the washer. Ultimately I had to throw a little detergent in the machine, but the fact that I did not have to run my Carpet Steam Cleaner at 4 in the morning when the baby had just gone to sleep was nothing short of a Christmas miracle.
My point is that you should just hang in there because we are all feeling the same pain in parallel universes, and only faith in God and hope for the afterlife will get us through. ;) Though a Starbucks never hurts...
Strangely enough, I also have a hatred of showering when it is dark outside.
I feel your pain. If I could FedEx a latte, I would.
You are all too, too sweet-- misery does love company! :)
Oh man. Yes, we had it right up until, and including, Christmas. My almost 3-year old, Katerina woke up around that magical hour of 3:00AM, and said her tummy hurt. So, having years of late-night experience with such things, I grabbed a blanket and put it kind of over my shoulder and down the front of my shirt, picked up Kat, and then the entire World came out of my little one. Wow. The ENTIRE World! I swear, for such a petite child, she sure did have alot of, what was the word you used, "yarf" in her. Wow. And, holy cow, I HATE this type of sickness. I can deal with stuffy noses, coughs and scary fevers all day long. But when little ones' puke, it's just game over for me.
And there's nothing like going to clean up the aftermath and recognizing last night dinner . . .
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