There is nothing like waking up to the cries of your child with the warning of, “I think I am going to be sick”. As my cat like reflexes kick in, I fly out of bed grab her and run to the bathroom and bend her over the toilet. I gently rub her back and tell her everything will be fine and then she turns her head 90 degrees and vomits all over the floor I had just mopped the previous night. Selfishly I sit there and look at the mess, take a moment of silence for the floor and then get back to her. “Oh sweetie, are you ok? Let’s get you out of these clothes and wash your face and get you back to bed.” Back to being selfish again, I want to clean up the vomit and try to get some sleep.
Cleaning up vomit is probably the worse chore ever. It’s not the cleaning part that bothers me, it’s the smearing it into the floor and the smell that engulfs me as I am bend over that pool of stomach acid. As I choke back my own vomit I put as many paper towels as I can on top of the vomit so I don’t have to feel it as I am mopping it up. That would actually put me over the edge, the smell and the gush on my hands. My husband yells safely from another room, “I will get her back to bed, you go ahead and clean up in there.” He’s no fool, he wants as far away from this mess as he can get and would actually drive 200 miles to get Pepto Bismol with a smile on his face if he thought it would get him out of barf duty.
When you are pregnant people will always stop to tell you about how hard being a parent and raising a child can be and they are 100% right. What they don’t say, and you don’t realize until you are actually holding that darling for the first time, is the worry you will feel constantly. Not just the worry of them being healthy, but the worries over if they will be smart, feel loved, have friends and not be bullied. The worry never goes away even when you think your child is perfectly fine. Of course the first thought in my head after the barfing incident is, ‘Could she have lyme disease from that tick incident last week?’ I am sure it is a ridiculous thought, but it isn’t going far from my worried mind. I get on the Internet and start typing in everything I can think that might indicate this is possible, knowing full well that Google search is the dumbest way to go about diagnosing anything. Once again, I am more confused than when I started and left with the nagging feeling in the back of my head, ‘What should I do now?’
But of course, my sickly child has enough energy to fight with her sister over complete nonsense, request whipped cream on her pancake (which she barfed up again all over the driveway 30 minutes later) and ask me if she can play Webkinz every 45 seconds as she sees me using the computer. So is she ok? Most likely, we will see how much havoc she can cause in the next 8 hours and I will keep track of the number of times she tells me how many things I have done wrong, including the color straw I put in her can of Sprite (“I’m sick and you know I stopped liking pink last month”).
That is all for today’s bliss, I am signing off to see if I can sneak in a nap while I finish my shift of barf watch. Happy Tuesday, hope it’s barf free for you!