Fast-forward to 2:37 a.m when I hear Sophie crying loudly over the baby monitor. I take Ambien to help me sleep, and since at this point I’d only had about 4.5 hours of sleep as opposed to the eight you are supposed to be able to “devote yourself to” with Ambien, I was a LITTLE out of it. I stumbled to Sophie’s room and could smell the tell-tale stench of PUKE before I even opened the door. But once inside, I could not figure out how to turn on her light. I was just too out of it. Fortunately Bobby came in the room just then and turned it on, having his wits about him. It was then that we saw our little girl covered in chocolate ice cream puke.

It was not pretty. That, combine with Ambien dizziness and the smell, sent me running to bow to the Porcelain God myself. So. That was awesome. Bobby, who is Superman, sent me back to bed and gave Sophie a bath and cleaned up all the mess himself.

This morning, Sophie seems totally fine. Bobby said she was fine in the middle of the night, too. No fever, super-cheerful, etc. So, I am going to have to blame this one on myself. As Emily said when I told her about last night’s events, “That’s what you get for shoving ice cream in her mouth, MOM.”

Lesson learned!

So. A few minutes into lunch, when he came and laid on the couch and said his stomach hurt, I went on high alert. “Sit up, Buddy,” I commanded, “You cannot throw up on Aunt Sarah’s nice couch!”

“I do have to choke,” he said solemnly. (He calls throwing up “choking”.) I grabbed him and ran at super-human speed for the bathroom, where Joshua proceeded to hurl his entire lunch and plastic cup full of Big Red & Sierra Mist into my brother’s toilet. After he was done, he looked up at me, overwhlemed and teary-eyed, but relieved. Poor baby!

Then, suddenly, he made and ungodly sound and puked all over my right foot. Missed the toilet by a mile. And of course I was wearing my Trello sandals. So, open-toed shoes with square holes all over them = a very pukey foot – one that will serve as a nasty reminder next time I think about letting him drink pop!!

Oh, Joshupants, thanks for making our family get-together a real party! Since it was clear at that point that your uncles weren’t going to take their shirts off and shoot at each other in the front yard, we definitely needed some excitement!

So it was with great excitement last Thursday that we drove over to my friend Andrea’s house. Her son Mitchell is 2 1/2 and he and Joshua get along great. Mitchell is a really good talker and reminds me alot of where Joshua was verbally when he was his age. So they can communicate pretty well and it is cute to watch them interact! However, there was not much interacting going on once Joshua discovered some of Mitchell’s new Christmas toys. This was the first time we’d been to their house since Christmas and Joshua quickly became zombified playing with Mitchell’s new multi-level car race track thingy. His social skills flew right out the window as he concentrated on watching the cars go around and around. Andrea and I were sitting in the kitchen (she was making us pancakes for dinner! Yum!) when Joshua yelled in a panicked voice.”Mommy!! I accidentally went pee-pee!”

I jumped up from the kitchen table and ran over and sure enough, he’d gotten so wrapped up in playing with the race track that he wet himself. His pants were soaked and there was a spot on Andrea’s carpet. I was mortified! I honestly can’t remember the last time Joshua had a pee-pee accident and I’d stopped carrying around extra clothes for him months ago. After properly shaming Joshua like any good mother would do, and apologizing to Andrea repeatedly, we borrowed a pair of pants from Mitchell and Joshua went commando. After I got him changed I asked Andrea for something I could use to clean the carpet. “Oh, I already got it.” she responded. Did I mention that Andrea is pregnant? There’s nothing like the guilt that comes from your pregnant friend having to get down on her hands and knees to clean your kid’s pee off her carpet!

The kids went back to playing (Sophie fortunately was being much easier to handle than usual!) and soon the pancakes were ready so we all sat down to eat. They were sooo good! Joshua ate two as fast as he could so he could get back to the blessed race track. Andrea and I each had two and decided we’d like another (she’s pregnant, I have no excuse! I’m just a glutton!) so she got up to make some more. Meanwhile Sophie and Mitchell had finished and went back to playing. I was sitting on the kitchen floor with Sophie when Joshua tore himself away from the toys and came to sit on my lap. “My tummy hurts!” he complained. I have honestly never known Joshua to complain of a tummy ache before (he’s more of a gagger) so I was a little concerned. “Did you eat too fast?” I said? “I think so!” he groaned

I took he and Sophie into the next room to be closer to the bathroom. At this point he was in tears holding his stomach and I was really worried. I thought he felt warm so I set him down and got up to ask Andrea for a thermometer.

Which is when he started puking.

I let out a little yelp and grabbed him to make a run for the bathroom, but I immediately tripped over Andrea’s dog, Joey! So I think I screamed again, but somehow I managed to keep myself and the still-hurling Joshua from falling flat on our faces. We finally made it to the bathroom but it was pretty much too late; by the time I got the toilet seat raised he was done puking. SO he got puke on the living room floor, on the DOG, in the hallway, on the bathroom floor, on TOP of the toilet seat, on my pants and sweater, and on his shirt and Mitchell’s pants, but not actually in the toilet.

A vision of Sophie walking through puke popped into my head so I went to grab her and pulled her into the bathroom with us. Meanwhile Andrea, the pregnant woman, was now down on her hands and knees scrubbing my kid’s puke off her carpet. I wanted to die! She was also trying to keep Mitchell and the dog out of it just as I was trying to keep Sophie out of it. There was a lot of yelling going on “Sophie, stop! Sophie, No! Sophie, stay here!” and apparently Mitchell was doing impressions of me yelling at Sophie the next day to his dad! Oy! The next few minutes were a blur. I know there was a lot of cleaning up of puke and keeping kids and dog out of puke going on but that’s about it!

I quarantined Joshua buck-naked from the waist down in the bathroom and ran out to the car to make sure I didn’t have any extra clothes for him. I didn’t want to have to borrow another pair of Mitchell’s pants! I mean geez I felt we’d done enough. Fortunately I found a pair I’d gotten at a thrift store a few weeks earlier and forgotten about. They were way too big but they’d get him home. I ran in and quickly got the kids ready to go. “You don’t have to leave!” Andrea said kindly. “You can eat your pancake!”

“Somehow I’m just not hungry anymore!” I replied. I just wanted to beat it before Joshua decided to spread excrement all over her house as well. I apologized about 100 times. “Next time you guys come over, just send Mitchell in without a diaper and give him some syrup of ipecac or something and we’ll call it even,” I offered. I seriously was so mortified I could barely look her in the eye!

It was really, really, cold that day, and when we got home, Joshua’s too-big pants fell down as he walked up to our porch. I cracked up at his little white bare buns sticking out from beneath his coat. I was glad to have something to laugh about!

This Saturday we’ve been invited back to Andrea’s for pizza with the whole family. I am so glad she invited us back! I am going to bring 4 changes of clothes for Joshua – I think I am going to make him wear plastic underpants and a bath towel as a bib, just to be safe! Oh and I’m bringing a new bottle of carpet cleaner. Maybe I should just make a “Playdate Emergency HAZMAT Kit” to keep in my car!

Friday night, we went out to dinner. I was feeling awful – very queasy. I tried every trick in the book, but unfortunately nothing was working (although I appreciate the great tips all of you left for me!). I was trying to keep down enjoy my food, but it was difficult.

Eventually I couldn’t take it any more and headed to the restroom. I was so sick. It was awful. By the time it was over, I was cleaning puke off my shoes. And my jeans. And the floor.

However, when I returned to the table, I felt like a new woman and went after my food with gusto. And then I went to Target with puke on my jeans.

But here comes the REALLY gross part.

The next morning, as I scratched an itch on my head, I noticed I had something in my hair… and pulled out a piece of lettuce.

Hi Cousin,
Kate was up all night puking. It was awful. She puked about 2 seconds before I left for work, too. Andy stayed home with her. We heard her barf over the monitor at about 11:30 last night, and the poor baby was covered from head to toe with puke. It was terrible. She really enjoyed getting her hair washed in the middle of the night. Ugh.
Well, I love you. I hope you are having a better day than I am!

For more Throw-Up Throwback Thursday fun, check out the Pinks & Blues Girls!

Last week Tosh, our great friend and a trusted babysitter turned 18, and we were very excited about being invited to her party. So…the day of the party, the kids and I went to Target to get Tosh a present. I only had thirty minutes to shop before I needed to be at my grandma’s house for lunch, so I had a mapped-out shopping plan in place. After I looked for the intended present for about five minutes, Sophie grew fussy and Joshua announced he had to go potty. I raced the cart from mid-store up to the restrooms at warp speed, and got the kids out and into the restroom. Sophie was elated to get out of the cart, but not so thrilled when I sat her down on the floor (I know, eew!) to hold Joshua onto the potty. (After this experience, I made it a point to teach him to pee standing up. DUH. Add this to the “Things that would’ve been helpful to do yesterday” list.) Sophie screamed while Joshua peed, and by the time he was done she was hysterical. Despite some helpful comments from the woman in the stall next to us (for the record, I do NOT want to talk to you while you are peeing, or my kids are peeing, or I am peeing. So just sit there and pee and mind your beeswax, mmmkay???), I shelved the shopping trip and we headed to the car so I could nurse her. We would just have to go to Target after lunch at Grandma’s.

That would’ve worked out perfectly if I hadn’t taken Joshua potty right before we left Grandma’s. But I did take him, and I did a very poor job of positioning him on the potty. So instead of in the toilet, his pee-pee went all over the back of his shorts and onto the floor of my grandma’s bathroom. Of course, I had no extra clothes for him, so he had to ride home in just his (damp) underwear and t-shirt. And last time I checked, it wasn’t kosher to take your kid to Target in just his (recently peed on) skivvies. So…no Target!!! Waaah! And no present for Tosh, unless I wanted to sacrifice my kids’ naps that afternoon. Which I did not.

That night, Bobby, the kids and I went presentless to the party. Tosh didn’t care about the presentless part, and we had a great time. One of her cousins was there and had kids just Joshua and Sophie’s age, and the kids were playing while Tosh opened presents from the less shopping-challenged guests. Joshua was kind of playing and eating at the same time, and I was watching him like a hawk because he sometimes has a problem chewing his food well enough. Sure enough, he started to gag, and I yelled, “Bobby!” to get my husband’s attention, and motioned for him to hold his plate under Joshua in case he ralphed. Happily, it was a false alarm and the kids continued playing. Whew! Joshua and the other little guy continued jumping up and down while the babies played on the floor. Then out of the blue, with no gagging sounds whatsoever, Joshua projectile puked! It shot straight out and landed mostly on the floor, but some also splashed on Sophie’s head and hand!!! EEEEWWW!!!!

Joshua calmly surveyed his work, looked me in the face and said, “Can I still have birthday cake?”

The other mom grabbed her kiddos while Bobby and I scrambled to clean a) our daughter and b) our friend’s carpet, all the while trying to convince the other mom that Joshua did not have the plague, just an overactive gag reflex. Much to my embarrassment, this interrupted the present opening, but the guest of honor handled it really well. After all, it’s not really a party until someone pukes (on their sister), right??

And yes, I did let him have birthday cake.

Going from having one kid to having two kids was a really tough adjustment for me, and the toughness started when I was about seven weeks pregnant and began getting sick. I’d been moderately sick with my first pregnancy, but apparently I hadn’t seen anything yet! My “morning” (HA HA HA HA!!!!) sickness with this pregnancy was horrible, but never was it worse than one particular Monday.

It was Monday May 1, 2006 – the Monday of all Mondays. It was worse than just “a case of the Mondays”. (My favorite quote from Office Space. If you have never seen it, please finish reading this blog, leave a comment, and then go directly to the video store to rent it!) For starters, I puked in a whole new locale for me – the shower!! That was exciting and oh-so- convenient. What a way to start the day. It really is impossible to feel clean after you’ve just puked in the shower. So that was about 6:45 a.m., then I hit the toilet and puked again about 7:30. I was still working at the time, and on the way to work, I started seeing stars – little silvery, squiggly things. This made driving veeery interesting. These stars were accompanied by a really bad headache, and by the time I arrived at work, I had pretty much convinced myself that I was near death. Once there, I called my doc, who said I was probably dehydrated and to drink lots of fluids and to “take it as easy as possible.” This advice didn’t seem nearly urgent enough for me, but whatever. Apparently it was not my day to die.

Now if I had any other job, or if I was working at any of my past jobs, I would’ve been out of there & on my way home as soon as I stopped seeing stars. But, I was working in a place where I was the only one who could do my job, and the success of the business depended on me being there, especially on Mondays because that was the day I trained new employees. So no one said to me “You need to go home.” Because they really couldn’t say that, because then we’d all be screwed. So I toughed it out. Puked 3 times at work (including twice during my training) and laid my head down on my desk whenever I could. Finally at 3:45 when training was complete I hoofed it out of there. My parents, who were watching Joshua, agreed to keep him longer at their house so I could sleep. I slept for about an hour but sickness/hunger woke me up. I puked again about 7:30 pm. Then Bobby and my folks got home with Joshua and they brought me some chicken noodle soup. I ate a little, went back to bed, puked again at 9:45, then fell asleep. For those of you like numbers, I puked seven times in three different locales! Pretty much the best day of my life.

After a few weeks of this, some pathetic begging and one failed try with medication, my OB finally prescribed me a miracle drug called Zofran. It was amazing and I was able to stop puking and start parenting my two-year-old again when I was about 16 weeks pregnant. Now that I’m a stay-at-home mom, Mondays are pretty much like every other day of the week, but I’ll never forget that record-setting Monday last May!

Case in point: Thursday May 24, 2007.

9:35 a.m. My three-year-old son Joshua says those magic words, “Mommy, I need to go potty!” This is music to my ears, since it took about 40 bajillion years to potty train him. So we hustle to the potty and he lays a deuce in the toilet and I am feeling very proud. Until I have to wipe his butt. He’s still not really capable of doing so himself, and it’s a little more complicated than after changing a diaper. So after he goes, I get him down from the potty, get out the old baby wipes, (toilet paper is just not cutting it for this chore) and wipe his little buns clean. Then I go wash my hands in the hottest water I can stand with my anti-bacterial Bath & Body Works soap. Yummy!

12:05 p.m. My son and I are just sitting down to lunch. He is dining on corn dog and apples, and my fine cuisine consists of bean soup and apples. Decadent, I know. I put my 6-month-old daughter Sophia in her chair at the table and give her some toys. But before I can take a bite of my lunch, she starts squealing and fussing. So I go to pick her up and she is COVERED in yellow poop. It’s all over the front (yes I said the FRONT) of her pretty purple outfit. I run her to the changing table to discover she has somehow pooped out the front of her diaper. It’s all over her stomach, all over the diaper tabs, and get this, POOLED in her bellybutton. Yes, POOLED. She has quite the “inny” and it was a wading pool of poop. A poop pool, if you will. Since there was poop ALL over her stomach, she immediately got both of her hands in it. I grabbed the baby wipes and frantically held one hand while wiping the other, then switched…next thing I know she has a hand and a foot in her mouth and I’m praying that a) I got all the poop off her hand and b) there was no poop on her foot to start with. Now that her hands are clean, I move on to the poopy stomach and belly button. I practically have to suction the poop our of her belly button. Then, and only then, am I actually able to take the diaper off and get started cleaning the normally affected area! BUT after I do that and pick her up by putting my thumbs under her armpits, I discover that there is also poop in her armpits! (And incidentally on my thumb!) So, I get her pits cleaned out and THEN I get her new clothes and rinse out her poopy ones, and finally sit down to lunch about 12:30. But my bean soup is not so appetizing anymore.

1:15 p.m. The kids and I are on the way home from the post office, and I’m feeling a little stressed so I decide to hit Tim Horton’s for an iced coffee. Caffeine + Sugar = Mommy Stress Relief!! We are about 2 blocks away when I notice in the rearview mirror that Joshua has his hand on his throat. “Honey, does your throat hurt?” I ask. Joshua, who NEVER admits to sickness for fear of going to the doctor, says, “Yes. I feel sick.” He then proceeds to cough and then PUKE all over the backseat of my car. It was the puke to end all pukes. I mean, this thing had like five different surges. Just when I thought he was done, he’s start spewing again! Poor kid! The smell of rotted milk quickly filled the car and I hightailed it past Tim Horton’s (oh, I’ll miss you Iced Coffee!) and headed for home. Joshua’s clothes were so covered in lovely little bits of apple, corn dog, and cheese crackers that I stripped him on the front porch and left his clothes there. After carefully getting my daughter out of the car so as not to get any puke on her, (I had some on my hands and arms after removing Joshua’s clothes) I put Joshua straight in to the bath tub. Then I put the baby to bed and after Joshua was scrubbed clean, he and I went back outside to tackle the car. When I look in the backseat I wish I had a HAZMAT suit. Or at least some latex gloves! But I don’t. So I dive in anyway. After delicately removing his car seat (which I hosed down, before removing the covers and putting them with the vomit-covered clothes into the washing machine), I discovered that there were POOLS of puke in the crevices between the back and bottom of the seats. POOLS. Puke Pools. IT….WAS…GROSS! So gross that I nearly added some chunder to the volume already coagulating in my leather seats. After about 30 minutes of Fantastick, paper towels, and Febreze, the car finally seemed back to normal, with the exception of the seatbelt, which was rather saturated. I leave it to my husband to work his magic on that, cause I have done all I can do for it, and it is still stinky. Joshua and I head into the house.

2:25 p.m. My daughter wakes up from her nap. She’s pooped again, but this time it’s all in her diaper. I count my lucky stars, change her, and go downstairs and put on a pot of coffee. If I want a cold one today, I’m going to have to make it myself!

4:35 p.m. Both of the kids are down for a late nap. I have taken an abrasive yet refreshing chemical shower, and now, with iced coffee in hand, am feeling somewhat human.

9:30 p.m. The kids are in bed and things have calmed down. Joshua still has a fever, but no more pukes! Who knows, if things stay quiet, I may even have time to run to the HAZMAT store and get a full body suit to protect me against tomorrow’s adventures. After all, if there’s anything I learned from today, it’s to count on “GROSS” being a part of the routine – at least for the foreseeable future!

Because the mall is near my hubby’s work, I called him to ask if he wanted to mosey on over after he got off work and join us, and he agreed. While we were waiting for him, I got an order of pretzel sticks from Auntie Anne’s, which is strategically located right across from the play place. I CANNOT resist Auntie Anne’s! So Joshua and I snacked while waiting for my husband. Because, as I mentioned, I am a good mother, I made Joshua sit with me and eat his pretzel stick instead of running around with it while playing. One of my greatest maternal fears is of my child choking, so I try to be extra cautious. Unfortunately, this didn’t stop Joshua from shoving as much pretzel as he possibly could down his throat and then spewing it AND his entire chocolate shake all over himself and the bench we were sitting on.

Of course I had gotten only 2 napkins from Auntie Anne’s, and baby wipes just aren’t that absorbent. So – puke pool under baby wipes is what I had going on – until my knight in shining armor and the father of my two children came striding into the situation. He secured us some paper towels and he and I together bagged up all the paper towels and wipes in a “diaper duck” baggie (actually we had to double-bag. Eew.) Then Bobby took Joshua to the rest room and washed his shorts.

For some reason, when Joshua hurled, everyone evacuated the play place. Since there had been some really big, rough kids there before he puked, I was actually happy that we had the area to ourselves. Note to self…give him pretzel sticks next time there are hooligans at the play place!

My unborn child is TRYING TO KILL ME.

UNCLE! UNCLE I say! You win, baby! You’re the boss! I keep trying to tell this kiddo that mommy is bowing to his/her authority, but Baby will not listen. And so I must assume that he or she is going to me much more rascally than Joshua. Even though I puked my fair share with Joshua, it was nothing like this. That was a freaking BREEZE. It was mostly in the morning and I could still function. This week I’ve been throwing up morning, noon, evening, night, and middle of the night. And when I puke, I don’t even feel better! I still feel sick! So I’ve pretty much been on the couch or in bed nonstop, when I am not at work. Poor Joshua has not had a very fun mommy and like all good mommies, I feel extremely guilty about that. Although, he does laugh when I throw up and says repeatedly “That’s funny!” so maybe I am a little bit of fun after all.
When I am laying on the couch or the bed miserable, I pretty much concentrate on NOT thinking about being sick. You know, not thinking about how many times I’ve puked, how many different places, how many different types of receptacles. (Example: Monday: Number of pukes: four. Number of places: three – once at work, once at my brother’s house, twice at home. Types of receptacles: two – three toilets and a trashcan. Grossest puke: in my downstairs bathroom when IT SPLASHED BACK UP IN MY FACE!!!!!)

You can see why I try not to think about these things, but it’s nearly impossible! It’s also impossible not to think about FOOD, cause when I do get hungry, I’m usually REALLY hungry but have no idea what I want. When I finally pick something I usually only eat a very little bit and then get turned off. So it’s very frustrating.
I will also say that one of the joys of being pregnant and having a toddler at home is that the smell of Joshua’s stinky poo diapers regularly sends me running to the nearest ralph-friendly receptacle. And THEN, after a few minutes, I have to actually CHANGE the thing. Yikes, that is a pretty big challenge, because I don’t want to a) throw up on my son or b) leave him diaper-less while I again run to the nearest Spewing Depot. It’s quite the quandary.

I sure hope this baby hears my cries of surrender and gives me some relief soon!