Mommin' It Up!

March 17, 2014March 16, 2014

What doesn’t kill you makes you want to die

Sunday I was awakened at 10 til 4 IN THE MORNING by Joshua coming into our bedroom and saying “Jonah’s throwing up!”

Of course he is. Because I’ve had the cold from hell for a week and I cannot control the coughing at night, so why would he throw up during the day when I could actually take care of him without hacking up a lung? As I was deliriously bathing Jonah and Bobby was deliriously stripping the boys’ beds of pukey sheets (because of course he got it on Joshua’s bed, too), Bobby looked at me and said, “Why do our kids ALWAYS have to start throwing up in the middle of the night? They never START throwing up in the daytime. If they throw up in the daytime, it’s just a continuation of something that started in the middle of the night.”

This morning, as I groggily moved to the coffee pot, his words popped back into my head, and I tried to think. Think, think, think, about when the kids had started a pukefest pre-bedtime.

In my ten years of parenting I can recall TWO TIMES. TWICE. Two whole times out of eleventybillion that they didn’t start off a pukefest during the wee hours. Once was when Joshua was in kindergarten, and we had to go pick him up because he threw up in class (first kindergartener of the YEAR to blow chunks in class. WINNER!!) and the second time was in December when Sophie and I were at a basketball game and Jonah started hurling all over Bobby about 7 p.m. If only he could’ve held it in a few. more. hours! Just to torture us as we tried to care for him!

Jonah is totally fine today, and has had no more instances of pukage, hallelujah! He’s been running around happy like a maniac and I will confess I’ve let him indulge in a few more of his favorite YouTube music videos than I normally would because I’M SO TIRED from being up in the middle of the night and then sleeping EVER so lightly (with Joshua in our bed because we only had one set of clean sheets, natch) so that I’d hear Jonah if he got sick again.

So yeah. I think the little boogers hold it in until it’s prime sleeping time, because WHEEEEEE being up in the middle of the night is AWESOME and mom and dad being too tired to care what happens during the day is AWESOMER!

Kids. I tell you, the method to their madness is positively Machiavellian!

What do you think? Are your kids in on the conspiracy too, or are mine just “special”?

May 22, 2013May 22, 2013

Don’t Shark Where You Eat

(So, first of all, if you’re *gasp* not a regular reader of Mommin’ It Up, you might want to read this to decode the title of this post. Ooh, mystery!)

The time is fast approaching when my kids are going to be too old for me to write about certain things they do or don’t do. And let’s face it, for this one, that time may already be past. But, since Emily loves it when I write about poop, I am going to throw this delightful tale in for old times’ sake. After all, I still have a two-year-old at home and my life is going to be ruled by my children’s bowels for a long time to come. For instance, nothing seems to move the aforementioned bowels like Mommy needing to get out of the house in a hurry. Which is why Jonah had to drop a deuce in his diaper two seconds after I needed to leave for physical therapy this morning. But anyway. Back to the dung at hand.

One of my children, who shall remain nameless, has a tendency to need to go #2 during a meal. This same child takes a book to the bathroom every time a poop is imminent. (Star Wars: The Visual Dictionary is currently the bathroom read du jour.) And, if we’re out to eat? The 20-minute doody session is a guarantee. This holds true even if it’s Grandma & Grandpa that are taking the kids out to dinner. I cannot tell you how many times my dad has had to pass a quarter hour or more in the Frisch’s bathroom with this kid. It’s bad enough that I’m uncomfortable taking my kids out to eat by myself, because I don’t feel comfortable leaving a child in the public restroom by himself for 20 minutes, and I’m not taking ALL the kids into the bathroom for that long. Not to mention the un-named super pooper will complain violently about the embarrassment of having to go in the women’s restroom.

But seriously, what is UP with that? This phenomenon has been occurring for the better part of a year, I’d say. It does happen fairly often at home, but nothing guarantees it more than the anticipation of a grilled cheese & fries kids meal on order.

I hope he outgrows it, because it’s going to be extremely awkward going on dates to restaurants one day if not. Especially if he’s lugging around that giant Star Wars book to pass the time. Maybe I should get him a Kindle.

These are the bowels of my lives, people. The bowels of my lives.

Photo Credit: kagey_b via Compfight cc

March 5, 2013March 5, 2013

Smug Alert

Yesterday, Jenny posted about how her family can’t catch a break with illness, and my sister commented “Worst winter ever.” (um, ps Anna, this seems like the worst winter ever because it is the first winter you’ve had two kids. Just wait until the start school!)

I was all, “It’s not that bad – we haven’t had it at all at our house!”

And then Sam threw up at 3:30 this morning. In our bed. Laying on his back, so it went all over his hair and face.

Did I mention he was in our bed?

So, I have learned my smug lesson for the day. Here’s to hoping it doesn’t spread through the rest of our family like wildfire.