Em is sick. I think our "cold" is making a second round through the family. I think the whole neighborhood has it. I think it isn't a cold, but a mild influenza. And Em has it again. That means:
A) No church tomorrow, or we'll have to do the crazy swapping places between Andrew and I at church.
B) Lots of whine, some fever induced, and some taking advantage of the extra attention.
C) I am exhausted.
D) Em fell asleep at 5:00, after barfing and bathing (because barf is what we do in this house, I've told you.), and slept till 7:30. Therefore, she is still awake.
E) Because her fever is down (thank you Motrin), and she is still up, and I am making her stay in bed, she is singing.
"Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb...Oh there you are Perry Platypus! Long away there were three men from far across the sea, giv'n this land, if they lived righteously....Choose the right, when a choice is placed before you, choose the right, when a choice is placed before you, choose the right, when a choice is placed before you...Mom, can I have candy?
No, Em, you threw up this afternoon, no candy. (Em comes and stands by the couch, the new couch, where I am typing this post, I had gotten as far as the end of choose the right)
But mom, I need somethinnnn...
(As I set my computer down) Em? Are you going to Bar....
All. Over. Me. And my new couch (thank you scotch guard). And the carpet, and herself.
I really don't think it's a tummy bug. But she was in there feeling good, and dancing, and singing, and the motrin wore off, and....
Now she's asleep, and I can't giver her more motrin. She wouldn't take it before falling asleep.
And Andrew isn't here. They ALWAYS barf when he isn't here. And he wonders why it winds me up so bad. I really think the barf is a big part of why I have a hard time with kids, with mommyhood. The barf doesn't bother me. The suddenness of it, the kids needing momma, while the puke is drying into the carpet, momma always being alone when they puke, not knowing why they are puking this time, or who we may have exposed, not knowing when it will hit again, worrying about if I'll wake up fast enough to get to them, if they'll remember their bucket, or if I'll find them swimming face down in it again. Nate used to thrash while he puked, and run frantically in circles. Em always thinks she's hungry, so she eats and eats and barfs and barfs.
At some points since Nate was 2, there has been barf 7+ times a month. November 2010 it was every night for 14 days. I literally had a panic attack on night 10, broke down because I couldn't do it again. Lately it has been like one bout of 2 or three times, every 4-6 months. I can feel Nate getting better about it. Just in time for Em to pick it up.
Sorry so whiney. And graphic. I need this preserved for me, So when I am 50 and can't have more kids, I won't run around telling people how grateful they should be when their kids barf, because they get to hold them, and care for them. (I've heard it, these empty nesters forget so quickly!)
I started out the post recording Emmy's funny singing, and the evening quickly changed direction. We rolled with it. The puke is cleaned, I think I got it all out of the couch. I'm going to bed. Sigh.
A) No church tomorrow, or we'll have to do the crazy swapping places between Andrew and I at church.
B) Lots of whine, some fever induced, and some taking advantage of the extra attention.
C) I am exhausted.
D) Em fell asleep at 5:00, after barfing and bathing (because barf is what we do in this house, I've told you.), and slept till 7:30. Therefore, she is still awake.
E) Because her fever is down (thank you Motrin), and she is still up, and I am making her stay in bed, she is singing.
"Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb...Oh there you are Perry Platypus! Long away there were three men from far across the sea, giv'n this land, if they lived righteously....Choose the right, when a choice is placed before you, choose the right, when a choice is placed before you, choose the right, when a choice is placed before you...Mom, can I have candy?
No, Em, you threw up this afternoon, no candy. (Em comes and stands by the couch, the new couch, where I am typing this post, I had gotten as far as the end of choose the right)
But mom, I need somethinnnn...
(As I set my computer down) Em? Are you going to Bar....
All. Over. Me. And my new couch (thank you scotch guard). And the carpet, and herself.
I really don't think it's a tummy bug. But she was in there feeling good, and dancing, and singing, and the motrin wore off, and....
Now she's asleep, and I can't giver her more motrin. She wouldn't take it before falling asleep.
And Andrew isn't here. They ALWAYS barf when he isn't here. And he wonders why it winds me up so bad. I really think the barf is a big part of why I have a hard time with kids, with mommyhood. The barf doesn't bother me. The suddenness of it, the kids needing momma, while the puke is drying into the carpet, momma always being alone when they puke, not knowing why they are puking this time, or who we may have exposed, not knowing when it will hit again, worrying about if I'll wake up fast enough to get to them, if they'll remember their bucket, or if I'll find them swimming face down in it again. Nate used to thrash while he puked, and run frantically in circles. Em always thinks she's hungry, so she eats and eats and barfs and barfs.
At some points since Nate was 2, there has been barf 7+ times a month. November 2010 it was every night for 14 days. I literally had a panic attack on night 10, broke down because I couldn't do it again. Lately it has been like one bout of 2 or three times, every 4-6 months. I can feel Nate getting better about it. Just in time for Em to pick it up.
Sorry so whiney. And graphic. I need this preserved for me, So when I am 50 and can't have more kids, I won't run around telling people how grateful they should be when their kids barf, because they get to hold them, and care for them. (I've heard it, these empty nesters forget so quickly!)
I started out the post recording Emmy's funny singing, and the evening quickly changed direction. We rolled with it. The puke is cleaned, I think I got it all out of the couch. I'm going to bed. Sigh.
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