Wednesday, June 25, 2008

"June is Throwing Up All Over" or "The Not-So-Pretty Side of Being a Mom"

June hasn't been a very good month for my family. We have had, in just three weeks time, two bouts with either a stomach virus, or a stomach virus and food poisoning. Either way, it wasn't pretty.

The first weekend of June it involved myself, my 8 year old, and my 18 month old. I have to say, of the two illnesses this month, the first involved the most prolonged, er, clean up. Much time was spent on the furniture and carpet with our Bissell Little Green carpet cleaner. I still am working on "freshening" the couch cushions. YUCK.

Fast forward three weeks to this past weekend. All is well, except the baby has had some nasty diapers for a few days, and threw up at breakfast mid week last week. We assumed he had choked, and was not really sick. Friday night rolls around, and thankfully my husband is driving home from work. All the kids are in bed. Then......it begins.

My 8 year old son comes out and says, "My stomach hurts." So, I told him to sit on the couch with me until Daddy got home. He felt pretty puny, but he seemed okay. Then, from the bedroom area comes a strange splashing sound. Now, our two cats have a gift for finding the one full glass of water in my room and knocking it over for a drink. We battle this all time time. (I know, bring the glasses out of your room, silly. I am working on it.) So, I tell my son to stay put, and I go back to throttle a cat. I take a peak into the boys' bedroom. Alas, it wasn't the cat.

My 5 year old son is sitting up in his bed, covered in the remains of his dinner. The side of the bed where his brother normally sleeps is covered in his dinner as well. Thankfully, said brother is dry in the living room. So, I calmly lead my weeping son to the bathroom where I run him a bath and convince him he doesn't need to be afraid of the bathtub. I think he was still a bit asleep. Once I had him all settled in the tub, I go to check on my 8 year old, while calling my husband to check on his progress.

My 8 year old has moved into the restroom and has tried, unsuccessfully, to vomit into the toilet. Mostly it all landed on the floor, the tub and himself. I calmly ask him to stay put, and I move the 5 year old out of the tub into dry jammies, and then run a bath for my 8 year old. In the span of 20 minutes I have had two vomiting children and two baths full of water cleaning them. I am beginning to feel nauseous, as would anyone in my position. I start praying that I am not getting sick as well.

Fast forward to about 20 minutes later. We have two clean boys, one having thrown up again into a bowl, the other having thrown up again, this time successfully in the potty. Daddy is close, so I decide that my nauseous tummy can't handle cleaning up all the puke. In our family, my husband is the vomit cleaner. He has a stronger stomach.

Unfortunately, several hours later, I join my sons in the toilet-hugging for a while. I come out into the living room afterwards to where my husband is sleeping with the two sick boys, and ask him if everyone is okay. He says our 9 year old son came out into the living room and threw up a trail to the bathroom. Twice. Sigh.

So, all in all, it was not a fun night. We spent Saturday basically sleeping all day in the living room because we all felt TERRIBLE. My husband was working, so thankfully he did not get whatever we got. Sunday, we did more of the same, just healing and resting.

What have I learned from this? Well, my 9 year old had an interesting comment for me in the first round of our sicknesses at the beginning of the month. Just after the baby had showered me with his breakfast, all of it running down my face, chest, stomach and legs, he said to me "Man, you are one unlucky mommy!"

I just looked at him, face dripping, and said, "No, honey, I am just a mommy. Every one of you, at one time or another, has done this to me." He looked HORRIFIED!! But this is the truth. When you agree to bring a life into this messy world, you agree to take part in messes. Whether it is sick tummies, or fights, or hurt feelings, or broken hearts, we take on life's messes when we take part in each other's lives. It isn't always fun, but it is always worth it.

And that is what it boils down to in parenting. The hurt, the grossness, the mess, it is all worth it. I love these people so much I don't even know where to put it most of the time. And if part of being their mommy means I have to be thrown up on, so be it. This is part of what I signed on for. And, most of all, they are worth it.

End Note: The clever title has to be credited to my musical-loving husband! This one is for all you "Carousel" fans.

2 comments:

May D. Cember said...

Horrible story. Truly great blog. You are quite a writer.

Tell Jeff I feel his pain - I'm the forcefully expelled body fluids cleaner in this family (all feline or canine of course - so he's got it lots worse than me). I was however, once willing to have Anna barf into my hands on an airplane to WVA. Luckily the bathroom opened right before the peas and carrots from her dinner the night before went spewing forth. I looked liked she wasn't a very good chewer...

You Lambert people got the woozy stomach gene!

Anonymous said...

OK, you guys are gross!