Saturday, May 26, 2012

It gets better?

At 1:57 a.m., I was startled awake by the sudden shifting of the mattress. Robbie was at the kids' bedroom door before I even heard Titus crying (thanks to my ear infection). "Is this puke?" I heard. Oh nooooo. I jumped out of bed and ran to their room. Yep. It was puke.

In a sleepy haze, I carried my crying son to the bathroom while Robbie stripped the linens off the bottom bunk. I stripped the clothes off Titus and stared at him trying to formulate a plan. I hate the helplessness that comes when your child is sick and doesn't understand what is going on. I decided to cover the couch with towels and have him sleep there.

The next two hours consisted of more puking, cleaning, laundry, and crying. Just when I thought things might be settling down, I heard Selah cough. Oh nooooo! Yep, she had to puke. So, we covered the love seat with towels and settled her in there.

For three more hours, I stroked clammy foreheads, emptied puke buckets, comforted distraught children, Lysoled everything in sight, and did laundry. All the while, I walked around thinking, "REALLY?! OMG?! CAN THIS BE HAPPENING?!" And yet, I was at peace. This is my job. To take care of my children.

Finally at 7 a.m., the vomiting stopped. Selah fell asleep, Titus started running around like a crazy person (why don't kids know how to properly be sick), and I crashed on the recliner. We had survived.

A pic of flowers instead of puke. You're welcome.


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