The One Where The Varsity Did Us Wrong

It began so well. We had a really happy, fun day which I will have to write about some other time. This post isn't about that. We decided to end our day with a trip to one of our favorite places, The Varsity, for dinner.

We love the place and have made an Easter time trek there many years. But we had such a great day yesterday that we decided we would go, it would be a great treat.

Even with the really long wait for food (they were slammed) the twins were happy and content, knowing that some of their favorite food was coming soon.

We ate happily, chatting as a great big family of dorks enjoying our calorie rich feast. Then we headed home and planned our evening around the Oscars.

I headed upstairs to change diapers and get on pajamas while Julia started a breathing treatment downstairs. I had promised her a pajama party you see, so that was the plan, pajamas and Oscars. I was beginning to change Miles when Charlie walks in, gets the doorway and unleashes a torrent of puke. He takes two steps forward and does it again. All of the door and the floor.

Thus began the evening that the Varsity did us wrong. I'm not sure if they have an employee who is ill with some sort of virus or they mishandled food in some way but one thing is clear, those of us who ate the Chilli and the cheeseburgers became violently sick in a night that hasn't ended. My oldest boy just did another round of puking at 9:30 am. The only person in our house who isn't horribly sick is the girl, who took one bite of hot dog, a few bites of fries and ate nothing else except cheese sauce. Miles puked all over the living room, and his bed, Charlie puked in his bed around 3 am or something. I'm not sure, eventually I lost track of time. The last time on the clock was 5 am when I was waking up because my husband was taking care of someone or I was, again - I forget. Up and down, up and down every hour or less.

My husband is terribly sick also but he's got a will of steel and despite needing to vomit he knuckled down and took care of us. There is something so comforting about SOMEONE being the adult in charge.

As for me, they twins got me up at 8 am and I can barely think. I'm having a coffee which my insides tell me is ill advised but I don't even care. I'm so tired I will end up asking my husband to take the reins sometime after breakfast as I'm not well myself.


I asked Louis, after his last round of puking, "Are you ok?"
His response, "Physically yes, emotionally - no."

Looks like we're off the Varsity for a long while.
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The One Where The Varsity Did Us Wrong

It began so well. We had a really happy, fun day which I will have to write about some other time. This post isn't about that. We decided to end our day with a trip to one of our favorite places, The Varsity, for dinner.

We love the place and have made an Easter time trek there many years. But we had such a great day yesterday that we decided we would go, it would be a great treat.

Even with the really long wait for food (they were slammed) the twins were happy and content, knowing that some of their favorite food was coming soon.

We ate happily, chatting as a great big family of dorks enjoying our calorie rich feast. Then we headed home and planned our evening around the Oscars.

I headed upstairs to change diapers and get on pajamas while Julia started a breathing treatment downstairs. I had promised her a pajama party you see, so that was the plan, pajamas and Oscars. I was beginning to change Miles when Charlie walks in, gets the doorway and unleashes a torrent of puke. He takes two steps forward and does it again. All of the door and the floor.

Thus began the evening that the Varsity did us wrong. I'm not sure if they have an employee who is ill with some sort of virus or they mishandled food in some way but one thing is clear, those of us who ate the Chilli and the cheeseburgers became violently sick in a night that hasn't ended. My oldest boy just did another round of puking at 9:30 am. The only person in our house who isn't horribly sick is the girl, who took one bite of hot dog, a few bites of fries and ate nothing else except cheese sauce. Miles puked all over the living room, and his bed, Charlie puked in his bed around 3 am or something. I'm not sure, eventually I lost track of time. The last time on the clock was 5 am when I was waking up because my husband was taking care of someone or I was, again - I forget. Up and down, up and down every hour or less.

My husband is terribly sick also but he's got a will of steel and despite needing to vomit he knuckled down and took care of us. There is something so comforting about SOMEONE being the adult in charge.

As for me, they twins got me up at 8 am and I can barely think. I'm having a coffee which my insides tell me is ill advised but I don't even care. I'm so tired I will end up asking my husband to take the reins sometime after breakfast as I'm not well myself.


I asked Louis, after his last round of puking, "Are you ok?"
His response, "Physically yes, emotionally - no."

Looks like we're off the Varsity for a long while.
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I Deal With More Poop Before 10 AM...

It was a dark and storm night. Ok it wasn't. It was a cold but sunny morning. Things were pretty much normal for a Saturday. There were twins in bed with us, and it was prior to 8 am but it was quickly apparent that no one was going to sleep if Mom didn't get up.

I didn't mind. There was coffee to be had and some stretching and relaxing in my future.

Things went pretty normally for a while. I changed diapers, I watched Spongebob with a hot cup of coffee in my hand, giving alternate drinks to whichever child is standing nearby to mooch a drink. I actually made them their own cup but my cup tastes better it seems.

Somewhere around 830 or 9 the poop parade began. "What's that stinky smell?" Julia asks and at our house it only means one thing, twin poop. So I found the culprit and changed him. As I headed back down the stairs I hear "Mommy I NEED TO THROW UP!"

We rush to the bathroom where nothing happens but she declares her tummy hurts. I tell her that perhaps she needs to poop (see more poop talk) and so she endeavors to make that happen while I discern that twin #2 needs changed so back upstairs I go.

I come back downstairs in a while, grab another cup of coffee and settle back into the couch for some more Spongebob and consider breakfast. I ask her what she wants, and she tells me she thinks she doesn't want to eat. That's a bad sign.

I wandered into kitchen and gave Miles his cereal choices and reminded him he has his OWN coffee cup. Dropped the bread in the toaster when I hear Julia say " I need to potty again." I said "Ok," not really considering that she JUST WENT.

I kissed Miles on the head and grabbed the sausage from the fridge when I hear a shriek and "MOMMY HELP ME HELP HELP HELP"

I run to the bathroom, throwing the sausage in the sink (why? I don't know) and behold my bathroom floor. And her legs. And her feet. Oh, she's unwell. She's just had an explosion of epic proportion. She's sobbing "What do I do Mommy?"

Mommy duty is amazing. If it were any person I hadn't given birth to I am pretty sure I'd be like "Good luck with that mess." But those big eyes crying huge tears and I'm not even bothered by the situation. First get out of those clothes, call Louis to resume breakfast.

"OH MY GOD WHAT HAPPENED?" He moans in horror when he comes to my aid.

One shower, one set of clean jammies later it's like it never happened. Much cleaning happened. Much Lysol was used. She still doesn't feel like eating much but she definitely feels better.

And as for me, I have been promised a nap today.

I am so going to take him up on it.
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I Deal With More Poop Before 10 AM...

It was a dark and storm night. Ok it wasn't. It was a cold but sunny morning. Things were pretty much normal for a Saturday. There were twins in bed with us, and it was prior to 8 am but it was quickly apparent that no one was going to sleep if Mom didn't get up.

I didn't mind. There was coffee to be had and some stretching and relaxing in my future.

Things went pretty normally for a while. I changed diapers, I watched Spongebob with a hot cup of coffee in my hand, giving alternate drinks to whichever child is standing nearby to mooch a drink. I actually made them their own cup but my cup tastes better it seems.

Somewhere around 830 or 9 the poop parade began. "What's that stinky smell?" Julia asks and at our house it only means one thing, twin poop. So I found the culprit and changed him. As I headed back down the stairs I hear "Mommy I NEED TO THROW UP!"

We rush to the bathroom where nothing happens but she declares her tummy hurts. I tell her that perhaps she needs to poop (see more poop talk) and so she endeavors to make that happen while I discern that twin #2 needs changed so back upstairs I go.

I come back downstairs in a while, grab another cup of coffee and settle back into the couch for some more Spongebob and consider breakfast. I ask her what she wants, and she tells me she thinks she doesn't want to eat. That's a bad sign.

I wandered into kitchen and gave Miles his cereal choices and reminded him he has his OWN coffee cup. Dropped the bread in the toaster when I hear Julia say " I need to potty again." I said "Ok," not really considering that she JUST WENT.

I kissed Miles on the head and grabbed the sausage from the fridge when I hear a shriek and "MOMMY HELP ME HELP HELP HELP"

I run to the bathroom, throwing the sausage in the sink (why? I don't know) and behold my bathroom floor. And her legs. And her feet. Oh, she's unwell. She's just had an explosion of epic proportion. She's sobbing "What do I do Mommy?"

Mommy duty is amazing. If it were any person I hadn't given birth to I am pretty sure I'd be like "Good luck with that mess." But those big eyes crying huge tears and I'm not even bothered by the situation. First get out of those clothes, call Louis to resume breakfast.

"OH MY GOD WHAT HAPPENED?" He moans in horror when he comes to my aid.

One shower, one set of clean jammies later it's like it never happened. Much cleaning happened. Much Lysol was used. She still doesn't feel like eating much but she definitely feels better.

And as for me, I have been promised a nap today.

I am so going to take him up on it.
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When Mom Gets It Worse

On Friday night Charlie didn't eat. That only means one thing, Charlie is very sick.  He further proved that theory true by puking all over the white sofa, and his bed. However, after two episodes he fell into a restful sleep and that was the end of it.

Then Mom got it.

I felt weird and not great when I woke up. I realized something, the past few times I've woken up and my coffee tastes like poison chemicals I've thrown up that same day. But I didn't see it coming yesterday. I had plans for aerobics, and I ate healthy and felt pretty good. Until about 3.

At 3 it was a wave of nausea and I felt like, if I JUST SLEPT I'd feel better. I realized that I had Charlie's bug, but I felt that I was mentally strong enough to fight of a couple of pukes and that if I just laid down a bit I would get better. Two and a half hours later, in the grips of unbelievable nausea and terrible pain I realized I was going to lose.

Charlie threw up twice. I experienced what I'm going to refer to as THE PURGE. While hummus was such a great choice when planning my lunch wrap it was a horror show the second time. Everything was. 

For HOURS. 

For over six hours my body rid itself of every bit of fluid it could find - the food was gone in the first 20 minutes. My thirst got unreal but all drinks of water just came right back. I tried taking some medicine, it came right back up. I couldn't think. Dehydration is a bitch. 

By about 1130 everything just stopped, leaving me a sweaty, gross mess who wasn't even tired but was so weak and exhausted sleep wasn't a problem. 

This morning I've got my green gatorade making me think I might live. I'd love a coffee but somehow it seems ill advised. Maybe in an hour or two I will try a cup. I dropped four pounds in six hours. I figure the plus side of yesterday is that I get to remove all my caloric intake from MY FITNESS PAL for yesterday, amirite?

Me and my electrolytes and are going to sit here and be coherent and hope I'm well enough to go get Louis from his Boy Scout campout. His father was up most of the night doing much needed shopping so I need to go and let him sleep. 

Come on gatorade, don't fail me now.

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When Mom Gets It Worse

On Friday night Charlie didn't eat. That only means one thing, Charlie is very sick.  He further proved that theory true by puking all over the white sofa, and his bed. However, after two episodes he fell into a restful sleep and that was the end of it.

Then Mom got it.

I felt weird and not great when I woke up. I realized something, the past few times I've woken up and my coffee tastes like poison chemicals I've thrown up that same day. But I didn't see it coming yesterday. I had plans for aerobics, and I ate healthy and felt pretty good. Until about 3.

At 3 it was a wave of nausea and I felt like, if I JUST SLEPT I'd feel better. I realized that I had Charlie's bug, but I felt that I was mentally strong enough to fight of a couple of pukes and that if I just laid down a bit I would get better. Two and a half hours later, in the grips of unbelievable nausea and terrible pain I realized I was going to lose.

Charlie threw up twice. I experienced what I'm going to refer to as THE PURGE. While hummus was such a great choice when planning my lunch wrap it was a horror show the second time. Everything was. 

For HOURS. 

For over six hours my body rid itself of every bit of fluid it could find - the food was gone in the first 20 minutes. My thirst got unreal but all drinks of water just came right back. I tried taking some medicine, it came right back up. I couldn't think. Dehydration is a bitch. 

By about 1130 everything just stopped, leaving me a sweaty, gross mess who wasn't even tired but was so weak and exhausted sleep wasn't a problem. 

This morning I've got my green gatorade making me think I might live. I'd love a coffee but somehow it seems ill advised. Maybe in an hour or two I will try a cup. I dropped four pounds in six hours. I figure the plus side of yesterday is that I get to remove all my caloric intake from MY FITNESS PAL for yesterday, amirite?

Me and my electrolytes and are going to sit here and be coherent and hope I'm well enough to go get Louis from his Boy Scout campout. His father was up most of the night doing much needed shopping so I need to go and let him sleep. 

Come on gatorade, don't fail me now.

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Terror From The Top Bunk

My only solace in the last 48 hours of death's grip has been that no one else had it. A week or so ago, they all had it but me. That sucked. It's far better for one soldier to fall than five, and so I figured it was just my turn. Somehow, the virus had lingered around and just chosen to hit me alone a week later.

I should have known that this was wrong in every way.

Shortly before 3 am I heard my husband say " Oh GOD I SMELL POOP" as he came down the hall. I sat up groggily, and wondered briefly had I crapped the bed. I had not. This was the good news. It was the end of the good news.

What had actually happened was that at some point Miles had thrown up in the night. Miles, who sleeps on the top bunk had rained down vomit all over his brothers below him and the room, and neither of them had so much as stirred. It was everywhere. Did I mention they had lasagna for lunch? Kids only puke when you have served them some sort of red sauce, that's a fact.

Kids came my way for wipe down with soap and water and changing of diapers and new pajamas. My husband, the ever able puke warrior went into the room and came out with the bedding and all casualties for washing. We rounded up extra sheets, pillows and blankets and sent Louis and Charlie back to their room, their somewhat puke + Lysol scented room. Miles we made a pallet on the floor next to us using the princess fold out sofa and blankets, plus a trash can nearby.

I would like to say I'm glad to report that he's moved on to the horrible gripping diarrhea, while it is true he has (I've changed 3 diapers in 10 minutes) I'm not glad to report it because I know the misery that's ahead for him.

As for me, I'm up. I'm so exhausted. I just drank a large glass of ice water in an absurd amount of time, hello dehydration. I may go get another.

I made myself a latte, but didn't bother with but half of it.

I'm weak and wobbly and sweaty. I am out of sorts on all counts. We have a birthday and two soccer games tomorrow, plus Easter Egg coloring, plus EASTER on Sunday which is always a special day too.

We are at DEFCON 1 with handwashing and Lysol up in here. There isn't anything else we can do but hope.

Please go away virus. We have a special day tomorrow. We can't be sick.

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Terror From The Top Bunk

My only solace in the last 48 hours of death's grip has been that no one else had it. A week or so ago, they all had it but me. That sucked. It's far better for one soldier to fall than five, and so I figured it was just my turn. Somehow, the virus had lingered around and just chosen to hit me alone a week later.

I should have known that this was wrong in every way.

Shortly before 3 am I heard my husband say " Oh GOD I SMELL POOP" as he came down the hall. I sat up groggily, and wondered briefly had I crapped the bed. I had not. This was the good news. It was the end of the good news.

What had actually happened was that at some point Miles had thrown up in the night. Miles, who sleeps on the top bunk had rained down vomit all over his brothers below him and the room, and neither of them had so much as stirred. It was everywhere. Did I mention they had lasagna for lunch? Kids only puke when you have served them some sort of red sauce, that's a fact.

Kids came my way for wipe down with soap and water and changing of diapers and new pajamas. My husband, the ever able puke warrior went into the room and came out with the bedding and all casualties for washing. We rounded up extra sheets, pillows and blankets and sent Louis and Charlie back to their room, their somewhat puke + Lysol scented room. Miles we made a pallet on the floor next to us using the princess fold out sofa and blankets, plus a trash can nearby.

I would like to say I'm glad to report that he's moved on to the horrible gripping diarrhea, while it is true he has (I've changed 3 diapers in 10 minutes) I'm not glad to report it because I know the misery that's ahead for him.

As for me, I'm up. I'm so exhausted. I just drank a large glass of ice water in an absurd amount of time, hello dehydration. I may go get another.

I made myself a latte, but didn't bother with but half of it.

I'm weak and wobbly and sweaty. I am out of sorts on all counts. We have a birthday and two soccer games tomorrow, plus Easter Egg coloring, plus EASTER on Sunday which is always a special day too.

We are at DEFCON 1 with handwashing and Lysol up in here. There isn't anything else we can do but hope.

Please go away virus. We have a special day tomorrow. We can't be sick.

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I Have The DEATH

On Sunday night I had this horrible feeling all evening that my food didn't go down. Horrible rolling waves of nausea gripped me but, by the time I went to bed I was "mostly" ok.

I woke up early, about 15 minutes before the kids were supposed to get up. I sat on the edge of the bed, contemplating what to do with this gift of 15 minutes when I realized I was shaking. Sweat was pouring out of me and I realized, what I was going to do with this 15 minutes had already been determined by mother nature.

I was going to be sick.

I spent Monday locked in to a spin of horrible unpleasant bodily functions.

To be clear on how unwell I was, I didn't have any caffeine and got no withdrawal headache. Since my body was performing a purge on it's own, coffee was ill advised. I have never missed my morning coffee and not paid for it with a headache that could inspire you to cut someone for saying "HAPPY HUMPDAY" or something equally inane. No headache, no desire for caffeine.

I woke up on Tuesday and made a cup of coffee - and it tasted like death chemicals. Like windex and bleach had a child, and I had just put cream and sugar in it. I threw it out, and made a second cup in case I had some how forgotten how to use the Keurig over 24 hours.

It was better, but not that satisfying AMAZING MORNING COFFEE I love.

Tuesday I was ok. I felt much better. Got stuff done. Good day.

Wednesday started out bad, so I should've known something was in the mail. I woke up very unwell. I felt shaky and out of sorts but I went to work. Again, I felt like my food wasn't going down. I mean, it was clearly IN my stomach but my stomach felt like it might just erupt at any time, that it was over full and sloshy in a horrible way. This went on all day.

When I got home, I felt chilled and terrible. I gave the three little kids a bath, because they were three dirty little kids and shortly after the last bath - I started throwing up.

I was very sorts of sick until about 3 am-ish, at 10 minute or so intervals - sometimes more. I couldn't keep down water. I felt like I was melting. It was charming.

I slept today until 1pm.

I can keep down water. And I had toast, a piece of ham, and now I'm having a yogurt. Yogurt seems well advised.

Again I haven't had coffee or caffeine. I don't even care. In fact I'm afraid of starting another round of purge so am avoiding it. I've seen the Rotovirus before, more than once and this doesn't seem like that one. Maybe the Norovirus or some other thing that makes you horribly ill is what I have. As for now, I'm going to try to rest and eat enough to be strong enough to go to work tomorrow.

A nap would be lovely.

I would post a picture, but no one wants that.
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I Have The DEATH

On Sunday night I had this horrible feeling all evening that my food didn't go down. Horrible rolling waves of nausea gripped me but, by the time I went to bed I was "mostly" ok.

I woke up early, about 15 minutes before the kids were supposed to get up. I sat on the edge of the bed, contemplating what to do with this gift of 15 minutes when I realized I was shaking. Sweat was pouring out of me and I realized, what I was going to do with this 15 minutes had already been determined by mother nature.

I was going to be sick.

I spent Monday locked in to a spin of horrible unpleasant bodily functions.

To be clear on how unwell I was, I didn't have any caffeine and got no withdrawal headache. Since my body was performing a purge on it's own, coffee was ill advised. I have never missed my morning coffee and not paid for it with a headache that could inspire you to cut someone for saying "HAPPY HUMPDAY" or something equally inane. No headache, no desire for caffeine.

I woke up on Tuesday and made a cup of coffee - and it tasted like death chemicals. Like windex and bleach had a child, and I had just put cream and sugar in it. I threw it out, and made a second cup in case I had some how forgotten how to use the Keurig over 24 hours.

It was better, but not that satisfying AMAZING MORNING COFFEE I love.

Tuesday I was ok. I felt much better. Got stuff done. Good day.

Wednesday started out bad, so I should've known something was in the mail. I woke up very unwell. I felt shaky and out of sorts but I went to work. Again, I felt like my food wasn't going down. I mean, it was clearly IN my stomach but my stomach felt like it might just erupt at any time, that it was over full and sloshy in a horrible way. This went on all day.

When I got home, I felt chilled and terrible. I gave the three little kids a bath, because they were three dirty little kids and shortly after the last bath - I started throwing up.

I was very sorts of sick until about 3 am-ish, at 10 minute or so intervals - sometimes more. I couldn't keep down water. I felt like I was melting. It was charming.

I slept today until 1pm.

I can keep down water. And I had toast, a piece of ham, and now I'm having a yogurt. Yogurt seems well advised.

Again I haven't had coffee or caffeine. I don't even care. In fact I'm afraid of starting another round of purge so am avoiding it. I've seen the Rotovirus before, more than once and this doesn't seem like that one. Maybe the Norovirus or some other thing that makes you horribly ill is what I have. As for now, I'm going to try to rest and eat enough to be strong enough to go to work tomorrow.

A nap would be lovely.

I would post a picture, but no one wants that.
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Tarry Now, Rash Titania

Wednesday we got the call. Come get Louis, he's sick. I drove over, unprepared for what I met. He had been at play practice, and was standing outside the gym - because it had been too hot in the gym. I found him the color gray and ice cold. Slightly incoherent and mumbling. As I arrived he leaned over and puked.
As I drove home, I pulled over so he could puke again on the 7 minute drive to the house.

The boy was unwell.

This presented a challenge because the play was Thursday. Titania and Puck need an Oberon but Oberon spent Wednesday into Thursday with his head in a bucket. I am proud of him though, because Thursday night for the play he sucked it up and made it.

I was glad because he's been rehearsing since October for this night. He didn't feel well and was ready for bed as soon as it was over, but he MADE it.

It was a victory, I thought, though. And we went to bed happy for a fun night.

Until the girl whimpered, and gurgled, and splashed VOMIT all over us and her. Yes, Julia had it. 4:30 am on a night when going to work the next day wasn't optional, and she and I were hitting the bathtub to get clean and shiny. Scott was tasked with cleaning up the bedding. I got the better deal.

As he was cleaning he realized his stomach hurt A LOT.

My husband began puking as I ran to work the next morning, sending the twins to school and hoping for the best.

I got home, only to get a call - Miles was throwing up.

We made a scene on the way out of HIS school, vomiting across the school lobby and parking lot.  He got the idea of the bucket quickly, which was an amazing improvement in HIS vomit experience. Or should I say in OURS.

Miles version of the bug quickly turned into diarrhea of the "OH DEAR GOD MAKE THIS STOP" variety. My Friday evolved into a race. A race to get the bucket, a race to get the diaper changed in short intervals.

Charlie however was fine. I felt sick, and some slight illness and then recovered.

I'd like to thank the universe for that one.

About 48 solid hours of vomiting and pooping uncontrollably was fairly unpleasant. Couple that with my husband being incredibly sick and not able to help much, it was a nightmare.

We all seem well today, knock on wood. NO YOU TOO KNOCK ON WOOD.


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Tarry Now, Rash Titania

Wednesday we got the call. Come get Louis, he's sick. I drove over, unprepared for what I met. He had been at play practice, and was standing outside the gym - because it had been too hot in the gym. I found him the color gray and ice cold. Slightly incoherent and mumbling. As I arrived he leaned over and puked.
As I drove home, I pulled over so he could puke again on the 7 minute drive to the house.

The boy was unwell.

This presented a challenge because the play was Thursday. Titania and Puck need an Oberon but Oberon spent Wednesday into Thursday with his head in a bucket. I am proud of him though, because Thursday night for the play he sucked it up and made it.

I was glad because he's been rehearsing since October for this night. He didn't feel well and was ready for bed as soon as it was over, but he MADE it.

It was a victory, I thought, though. And we went to bed happy for a fun night.

Until the girl whimpered, and gurgled, and splashed VOMIT all over us and her. Yes, Julia had it. 4:30 am on a night when going to work the next day wasn't optional, and she and I were hitting the bathtub to get clean and shiny. Scott was tasked with cleaning up the bedding. I got the better deal.

As he was cleaning he realized his stomach hurt A LOT.

My husband began puking as I ran to work the next morning, sending the twins to school and hoping for the best.

I got home, only to get a call - Miles was throwing up.

We made a scene on the way out of HIS school, vomiting across the school lobby and parking lot.  He got the idea of the bucket quickly, which was an amazing improvement in HIS vomit experience. Or should I say in OURS.

Miles version of the bug quickly turned into diarrhea of the "OH DEAR GOD MAKE THIS STOP" variety. My Friday evolved into a race. A race to get the bucket, a race to get the diaper changed in short intervals.

Charlie however was fine. I felt sick, and some slight illness and then recovered.

I'd like to thank the universe for that one.

About 48 solid hours of vomiting and pooping uncontrollably was fairly unpleasant. Couple that with my husband being incredibly sick and not able to help much, it was a nightmare.

We all seem well today, knock on wood. NO YOU TOO KNOCK ON WOOD.


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Cough, Cough Puke Gag Gurgle Splatter

I had something to write about today. Actually for like two days. I just haven't had time or energy. But then my train of thought was interrupted by life at about 5am this morning. The girl child had the terrible exploding butt last night and followed up in the early AM with exploding vomit all over the room.

There isn't a book for this that I know of. I mean, there is a "what to feed them if they have stomach flu" sort of instructions you can get from books and doctors but I mean, how to handle puke all over your bedroom floor and you're barefoot and the lights are out - where is the manual for that?

Round one wasn't so bad. A bit on the nightie a bit into a quickly placed babywipe that I was able to grab and we changed jammies, determined there was no fever and she snuggled into bed with me, tucked under my chin and sleeping on my heart.

Round two took place precisely two minutes before my "You Must Get Up Now" final alarm went off. Cough cough was the prelude and I jumped up with her but too late. 

I have to now say something about my husband. He's a Puke Warrior. Four kids into this life, he has always, 100% of the time, cleaned up the puke. Whether in the bedroom, bathroom, living room, a hot steamy tent in Florida, I take the kid and clean them up and he cleans up the horror show they left behind. 

I am getting the best part of this deal I assure you.

The girl child is now resting, a bit sweaty, in her third set of jammies since 5am. One boy has gone off to school and I've 25 minutes before the next bus arrives. I'm drinking my coffee, the husband went out side to smoke a cigarette and is now trying to get some more sleep. 

I'm sitting here realizing my stomach feels queasy.

Perfect.

Cough, Cough Puke Gag Gurgle Splatter

I had something to write about today. Actually for like two days. I just haven't had time or energy. But then my train of thought was interrupted by life at about 5am this morning. The girl child had the terrible exploding butt last night and followed up in the early AM with exploding vomit all over the room.

There isn't a book for this that I know of. I mean, there is a "what to feed them if they have stomach flu" sort of instructions you can get from books and doctors but I mean, how to handle puke all over your bedroom floor and you're barefoot and the lights are out - where is the manual for that?

Round one wasn't so bad. A bit on the nightie a bit into a quickly placed babywipe that I was able to grab and we changed jammies, determined there was no fever and she snuggled into bed with me, tucked under my chin and sleeping on my heart.

Round two took place precisely two minutes before my "You Must Get Up Now" final alarm went off. Cough cough was the prelude and I jumped up with her but too late. 

I have to now say something about my husband. He's a Puke Warrior. Four kids into this life, he has always, 100% of the time, cleaned up the puke. Whether in the bedroom, bathroom, living room, a hot steamy tent in Florida, I take the kid and clean them up and he cleans up the horror show they left behind. 

I am getting the best part of this deal I assure you.

The girl child is now resting, a bit sweaty, in her third set of jammies since 5am. One boy has gone off to school and I've 25 minutes before the next bus arrives. I'm drinking my coffee, the husband went out side to smoke a cigarette and is now trying to get some more sleep. 

I'm sitting here realizing my stomach feels queasy.

Perfect.

I Am Not a Teflon Mom

Wednesday night I had a company dinner and so arrived home late. When I got home, my oldest boy was complaining of tummy problems and quickly dashed to the bathroom. When he came out, he was red faced and clammy with watery eyes.
In short,he looked really bad.
So we talk about how he feels and he tells me that his tummy really hurts.
And then he says "May I be excused?" and of course we say yes and he says "I have to go throw up."
Which he then does.
All night long.

It goes on until about 4am, and this is where I have to admit something.

OMG I lay there in terror, in between the vomit, hoping that he didn't sit up and puke all over me. Some moms get all barfed up and they must have Teflon skin - not me. I cannot STAND it. I mean - I'm THERE for him, wiping his mouth, giving him a drink to rinse and spit.....getting towels, giving hugs.
Oh GOD please don't puke on me.

He wanted to snuggle up and lay on me and that just kept me awake even more. I could hear every gurgle of his tummy, every moan in his sleep even better and I'm a ball of tension - don't barf on me please don't barf on me.

The next morning he bounces out of bed completely excited and off we went to school - he was feeling great and I chalked it up to something he ate. (Of course by then I'm not feeling go at all).

Of course the school called a few hours later. They had 150 kids have to go home due to vomiting and mine was one of them. The board of health showed up and they've closed the school because it's more than 10% of the school population.

All I know is - nobody barfed on me, and that is all good.

I leave you with a pic of the twins, on pajama day.

I Am Not a Teflon Mom

Wednesday night I had a company dinner and so arrived home late. When I got home, my oldest boy was complaining of tummy problems and quickly dashed to the bathroom. When he came out, he was red faced and clammy with watery eyes.
In short,he looked really bad.
So we talk about how he feels and he tells me that his tummy really hurts.
And then he says "May I be excused?" and of course we say yes and he says "I have to go throw up."
Which he then does.
All night long.

It goes on until about 4am, and this is where I have to admit something.

OMG I lay there in terror, in between the vomit, hoping that he didn't sit up and puke all over me. Some moms get all barfed up and they must have Teflon skin - not me. I cannot STAND it. I mean - I'm THERE for him, wiping his mouth, giving him a drink to rinse and spit.....getting towels, giving hugs.
Oh GOD please don't puke on me.

He wanted to snuggle up and lay on me and that just kept me awake even more. I could hear every gurgle of his tummy, every moan in his sleep even better and I'm a ball of tension - don't barf on me please don't barf on me.

The next morning he bounces out of bed completely excited and off we went to school - he was feeling great and I chalked it up to something he ate. (Of course by then I'm not feeling go at all).

Of course the school called a few hours later. They had 150 kids have to go home due to vomiting and mine was one of them. The board of health showed up and they've closed the school because it's more than 10% of the school population.

All I know is - nobody barfed on me, and that is all good.

I leave you with a pic of the twins, on pajama day.

Lemme Tell Bout Sick - Part 1

So lemme tell ya......you kids think you know about sick?
How about this one? The big boy wants to ride in the car to school one day last week, for no particular reason just for fun so I acquiesce and we make our plans accordingly. When my alarm goes off at the obscene hour which is required for elementary education, I realize my left ear really hurts. It really really hurts. As in shit, "I must immediately consume to Advil to alleviate this skull crushing pain" hurts.
So I stumble downstairs with the boy, realizing I also have an obscene amount of sinus drainage. Ok, take care of that too while I'm at the medicine cabinet, we've got the drugs.......we've got the technology, we can build her better than before.........(sorry having a bionic woman moment).
As I'm driving the boy to school.......I realize I'm a little tummy rumbly. Not WORRISOME just worrisome.
Then I try dropping him off to school. Seen Mr Mom? When all the Mom's are screaming "YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG?!?"
It was like that.
During the part where the lady who is in charge of telling Mommy's who are doing it wrong is telling ME that I'm doing it wrong, it occurs to me that I was incorrect, my tummy rumbly is indeed WORRISOME.
I make it home. Barely.
Here is what I am going to say about that part.

It was unpleasant. And I thought I was going to faint.

So I crawl back into bed. And out of bed. And into bed. And out of bed. And into bed. And out of bed.

Then I get up and feed the twins breakfast.

Shortly after breakfast it occurs to me that I'm going to vomit, and I rush to the downstairs restroom to do so. While hunched over the toilet, praying for the vile act to end, Baby Birdman runs into the bathroom, pulls down my pants from behind and slaps my butt. Then runs away laughing hysterically.

Shortly after that I put both the twins in their room and tell the husband I have stomach flu. Or something.

Or something indeed.....

Lemme Tell Bout Sick - Part 1

So lemme tell ya......you kids think you know about sick?
How about this one? The big boy wants to ride in the car to school one day last week, for no particular reason just for fun so I acquiesce and we make our plans accordingly. When my alarm goes off at the obscene hour which is required for elementary education, I realize my left ear really hurts. It really really hurts. As in shit, "I must immediately consume to Advil to alleviate this skull crushing pain" hurts.
So I stumble downstairs with the boy, realizing I also have an obscene amount of sinus drainage. Ok, take care of that too while I'm at the medicine cabinet, we've got the drugs.......we've got the technology, we can build her better than before.........(sorry having a bionic woman moment).
As I'm driving the boy to school.......I realize I'm a little tummy rumbly. Not WORRISOME just worrisome.
Then I try dropping him off to school. Seen Mr Mom? When all the Mom's are screaming "YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG?!?"
It was like that.
During the part where the lady who is in charge of telling Mommy's who are doing it wrong is telling ME that I'm doing it wrong, it occurs to me that I was incorrect, my tummy rumbly is indeed WORRISOME.
I make it home. Barely.
Here is what I am going to say about that part.

It was unpleasant. And I thought I was going to faint.

So I crawl back into bed. And out of bed. And into bed. And out of bed. And into bed. And out of bed.

Then I get up and feed the twins breakfast.

Shortly after breakfast it occurs to me that I'm going to vomit, and I rush to the downstairs restroom to do so. While hunched over the toilet, praying for the vile act to end, Baby Birdman runs into the bathroom, pulls down my pants from behind and slaps my butt. Then runs away laughing hysterically.

Shortly after that I put both the twins in their room and tell the husband I have stomach flu. Or something.

Or something indeed.....