jenn.nu

Written on April 22 2008, and filed under General

Warning: frank talk of vomiting toddler ahead, ahoy!

Around 2am on Monday morning, I went to check on Alyssa and Ryan, as I always do before going to bed. I’m sure they’ll be well into their teens before I stop checking on them before I go to bed myself.

I checked on Ryan first. He was fine, snoozing away with his cute little baby butt sticking up in the air. I tucked him in, and then went to check on Alyssa. I poked my head in her room and saw her sitting up in bed, crying. Right as I was asking, “Alyssa, what’s wrong?”, the smell hit me.

I. Am. A. Horrible. Mother. I run at the sight of vomit. Honestly. I can’t handle it. The sight of vomit, the smell especially, and even just the knowledge of the presence of vomit is enough to make me vomit. So rather than pick her up and cuddle her and kiss away her tears, I reeled back, told her to hang on just a sec, and ran back to the living room for Dan.

She had thrown up in her bed and down the side of it, onto the floor. Thank God Dan was home. Otherwise, I would have scooped her up, cleaned her up and put her in our bed, and then shut the door to her bedroom and pretend the mess didn’t exist, and/or do my best to will it away.

But Dan was home, so no fingers in the ears, la-la-la I can’t hear you was necessary. Dan agreed to strip the bed, clean up the mess and scrub the carpet. I took Alyssa, whom Dan had already stripped the pajamas off of her, and whisked her off very a very quick and very warm bath. I dressed her, brushed her hair, wiped out her mouth with a damp paper towel, gave her just the tiniest sip of water, and then tucked her into our bed. I started the first load of laundry (four total: sheets, then duvet, then bed skirt and fitted, waterproof mattress cover), then grabbed a very large stock pot to use as a makeshift vomit bucket, and came back to bed with Alyssa.

Right as I was laying down beside her, she sat up and asked me for some water. Then she did the I’m about to yack face. I couldn’t grab the bucket fast enough, so there went Dan’s pillow and the sheets, tossed in front of the washer and dryer to wash after Alyssa’s bed clothes were done.

Dan had just finished cleaning and was in the living room putzing around with the PS3. I asked him to please stay up with her, because one of us was going to have to be up with Ryan, who had gone to bed very early on Sunday night (7pm!!! His normal bedtime isn’t until 10pm!!!). He agreed, of course, and I made up a bed on the sofa for Alyssa, and tucked her into it. I wiped out her mouth again, gave Dan a dixie cup filled with just a few sips of water and instructed him to not let her have any more than that unless she went more than an hour without getting sick, and placed the stock pot on the floor next to the sofa.

Monday morning. Alyssa climbed into bed with Dan while I got up to shower and wake up Ryan. Unfortunately she and Ryan had appointments that had been rescheduled twice before, so we went ahead and took them both out. Poor baby threw up a tiny bit of clear fluid in the car (I recognized the expression on her face and handed her Dan’s pullover — sorry sweetie! — to use, so she wouldn’t mess up her clothes).

But since then she has been okay. She had some apple juice, a tiny bit of lunch, a snack later, and then dinner. So, I don’t know what that was about. Something that didn’t agree with her on Sunday? A stomach bug?

She crashed in our bed from 3pm until after 7pm. She hasn’t been wanting to nap lately, and even when she does nap, it’s for no more than an hour or so, so I know she wasn’t feeling good!

Anyway, because I was so busy on Monday with errands (we were out for three hours :/ ) and then lots of cleaning, I didn’t get done half the stuff I wanted to. Grr! I did however, finish off the book I started on Sunday night: Carolyn Jessop’s Escape. It was a really good book: frank and well-written. I could see the scenes unfolding before me, in my mind. But the book was also really scary, and very, very sad. Scary to think that everything told is REAL, and is STILL HAPPENING, and sad, because to think of what those people go through as babies and children, and the lives as breeding machines and not being worth much more more or treated better than a workhouse that those women live.

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, on April 4 2008 at 3:07am:

Poor thing. I hope she’s feeling better. Sascha’s been known to do that every so often. I don’t handle vomit well either. Fortunately my husband doesn’t mind it too much.

, on April 4 2008 at 3:25am:

I hope Alyssa’s feeling better, that bug sounds nasty!
Ahh, I see the Escape you’re really IS the same one I’m thinking of! I’m currently in the middle of a presentation about FLDS for a class at university, so I’m thinking I should try and get hold of it and read it too.

, on April 4 2008 at 5:04am:

You’re not a horrible mother, I can’t stand looking/hearing/watching anyone vomit either. Other thing what I will never ever agree to clean is our cat’s litter box. Just smelling the whole thing makes me vomit :sick:
I hope the bug goes away quickly and Alyssa will be feeling better soon.

, on April 4 2008 at 7:48am:

I’m like that when it comes to vomit too, even when it’s the cats throwing up. I always tell Tor that it’s better he does the cleanup, or I’ll just end up adding to the mess.

The other book you got was The Other Boleyn Girl, right? You’ve got SUCH a treat ahead of you.

, on April 4 2008 at 7:58am:

Poor baby. I can’t stand the smile of puke either, it makes me gag. I hope she feels better.

, on April 4 2008 at 11:02am:

Vomit sucks. I just somehow suck it up and get through it. If it’s going on in the middle of the night I always let my husband sleep as he goes to work during the day and well if it’s during the day I’m pretty much on my own as well.

, on April 4 2008 at 1:54pm:

You’re not horrible, I can’t handle puke either. I once woke up covered in my own and my god… cleaning that up was horrendous. I hope she’s feeling better.

, on April 4 2008 at 1:58pm:

Awwh, poor Alyssa! I don’t look forward to those days. Baby D is now dealing with his very first cold. I’ve been really lucky that he made it to a year before getting it. Maybe has something to do with my breastfeeding him so long? The poor little bugger’s got snot dripping down his face most of the day and a hacking cough. If he didn’t have the physical symptoms you’d never know he was sick, still his usual good natured self.
Do your kids get sick often? How do you get puke out of the carpet? *shudders to think of future dealings with vomit*