That's what I get for thinkin.

My last post was a sort of complaint that nothing interesting is really going on.

Yeah, I'll never do THAT again.

At about 3.30 am on Friday morning, I woke up to, "Mommy, I frowed up. In my bed."

At first, I thought my four-year-old was kidding. She says she has to "frow up" all the time, but it generally just involves a lot of coughing and maybe a few drops of spit. And anyway, I had just woken up and my immediate urge was to say, "Ahhh that's cool honey come lay down shhh sleeep..."

Then I realized she wasn't wearing the same shirt she had gone to sleep in.

"Honey... what happened to your shirt?"

"I frowed up on it."

Okay, this was probably more serious than I thought. For a minute, I still sat there, sitting up in bed and rather dumbstruck. It was dark. It was the middle of the night. I had to work in the morning. Was this kid pulling my leg? Sleeeeep...

That was when she stepped closer, and I smelled it. Phewww there ain't much can wake a mama up faster at three in the morning than the smell of vomit.

"Okay, come on." We went out to the living room and sat on the couch. I got a bucket for her personal use and we settled down to watch old tv shows on Disney Jr. (Did you know they play the old Little Mermaid cartoon at four am on Disney Jr.?!) Her bed could wait til the morning. I was in no shape to fix it, and besides, she wasn't getting back into it anytime soon. I was beginning to wake up, bit by bit, and with great dread I realized that if *she* was sick, then...

The wailing began. Oh, no.

I went into my eighteen-month-old's bedroom and sure enough, his bed and his clothes were covered in the same orange, foul-smelling gunk my daughter had been spewing into the bucket. I grabbed him up and immediately stripped him down. It was time to call for reinforcements.

My husband had been off work for a week, using all of his vacation time. Therefore I knew I would be the one staying home with the sick kid. But now that there were two covered in vomit... ugh.

He was a fairly good sport about being woken up at four am by pukey kids. He didn't complain when I asked him to clean out the kids' beds and put their bedding in the washer. (Which is great because I probably would have blown chunks all over myself attempting to do that.) We got the two of them into the bathtub, and yes I was able to wash all of the vomit out of my son's hair.

We eventually got both kids calmed down and sleeping. At eight am, I was up and on my way to the grocery store for strawberries and blueberries. Maybe it's the sugars in the fruit, but whenever I have a stomach issue, all I want are strawberries and blueberries. They calm my gizzard better than anything else. (Yes, I said gizzard.) And anyway, that Emetrol stuff is nothing but sugars. At least strawberries and blueberries taste better. I also loaded up on popsicles for dehydration.

Something must have worked because, though they hardly ate the rest of the day, my kids did not get sick anymore. My son whined and whined and cried and slept all day, but that is certaintly still preferable to the alternative.

At any rate... my lesson has been learned. I will keep my mouth shut about having uninteresting things about which to write. Because, honestly, as entertaining as it was to write this.... it was horrible to live it!

XOXO,
Alex.Is