Well, it took nearly four years, but we have finally broached the parenting frontier known as The Middle of the Night Honkfest.
Usually followed by an All Day Pajama and Movie-Fest
As I have mentioned before but am too lazy to link to, I am borderline phobic when it comes to barfing. I don’t really like to go into too much detail about it because 1) gross, who wants to hear it, and 2) I don’t like talking about it because it makes me feel completely weak and lame. I have gotten much better than I used to be (I can handle talking about it, cleaning it up — pretty much anything but seeing/hearing it in progress), but it’s still An Issue. Anyhow, with the exception of her isolated car barf at age 18 months and a few cough-til-you-barf! extravaganzas, Sadie has never had an honest-to-goodness barfing situation/stomach bug. Until last night. Yeesh.
Weird thing about last night was that I was restless, which is entirely unusual for me. Brad had some friends over and they were downstairs playing a game, meaning that I was free to watch crap movies on TV and pass out on the couch whenever I damn well pleased. Thing was, I didn’t feel remotely sleepy (NOT THE NORM), and after surfing channels for two hours, I decided to try to get ready for bed at around 11:30.
Somewhere along the way I got into a shit mood because I started beating myself up for laying around all night when I felt somewhat energetic. My brain likes to do this thing where it tells me that I’m lazy if I don’t spent every last iota of energy I have doing something productive, see, so when I CHOOSE to do nothing and I’m not fall-down-dead exhausted? I feel guilty. This is dumb, I KNOW it’s dumb, and the fact that I know it’s dumb but I FEEL IT ANYWAY pisses me off, so I did something shitty: I picked a fight with Brad. Go team.
We had nearly reached the Look, I’m A Jerk, I Picked A Fight And I’m Sorry portion of our evening when we noticed the wind outside was going CRAYZAY. We stopped to watch the giant trees on our back hill swaying violently in the wind when–straight out of a movie–the eerie darkness was pierced with the telltale cry of “MAMA!”
You know shit ain’t right when you hear that at 12:37 in the AM.
On account of my being a barf-phobe, Brad is always the first responder in these situations, with me as clean-up. Internet, he handles stuff like this in a way I never could: totally calm, totally comforting, keeping everything cool and collected while our hallway floor suffers a loss of dignity, etc. Basically, if you have to barf in the middle of the night, Brad’s your guy. If you need a bathroom disinfected and laundry done in the middle of the night, that’s when I’m your huckleberry.
Long story short: a few barfs and three hours of sleep later, everything seems much better. Sadie spiked a fever by late morning and is awfully tired, but she’s keeping water and crackers down and wants to play and joke around again. And here is where I will once again showcase my enormous pride in this kid by telling you that–despite not remembering what it was like to throw up–she didn’t cry or get upset once. And after the first episode, when Brad told her to let him know whenever she felt as though she was primed to re-boot, she TOTALLY LET HIM KNOW. Like, with enough warning that he was able to take her to the bathroom and hold her hair back and all that shit. My friends, I still can’t always manage to master that process. Bottom line: my kid wins at throwing up and I lose at bragging about relevant things.
Up next at JT headquarters: hoping against hope that Brad and I have dodged this viral bullet.
Bleach don’t fail me now, bleach don’t fail me now.
Poor Sadie. Poor Jive Turkey. Hope everyone is feeling better (or still at 100%) soon!
Ugh, those middle of the night ones strike such fear in me. And I don’t know why. Like, I think maybe I’ll be too out of it and will just completely fuck everything up? I think maybe it’s the horrific upset of my routine, which I can’t handle thinking about. “We’ll be up all night! And won’t get any sleep! And then! Then! I don’t know! The world will end!” I’ve found that I’m much better in the moment than I think I will be, so that’s good. Though I still have to hold my nose if I’m in the room with my kid when ralphing is happening and I imagine it’s much less comforting to hear, “There, there, baby. It’s okay,” in that distinctive Urkel voice that says, “But I’m completely disgusted by you right now.”
Melissa aka woolyknickers linked to one of her pieces on Time about this new research that they’re doing about stopping the spread of norovirus because it’s airborne. The researchers are using this dummy head called Vomiting Larry and some blacklights that show how far vomit tends to travel and mist so that people can clean up after more effectively. AWESOME CAN’T WAIT FOR THE RESULTS TO TELL US THAT WE’RE ALL JUST WALKING IN CHUNKS.
I felt so many things reading your comment: LOL at Urkel voice, horror at the walking in chunks study/experiment, and OMG YES re: the middle of the night thing being so terrifying. What IS that? I do not mind telling you that on my way to the basement to process the tainted laundry, I made a pit-stop at the liquor cabinet for some Maker’s because GIRL PLZ.
Oh, man, I am so sorry you got the dreaded Night Visitor. But it sounds like you all handled it as well as you could have, and Sadie looks so cute in that picture that I want to push myself through the screen and snuggle her.
Also, do they make those bean bag chairs in adult sizes? Hullo, that thing looks fantastic! I would like to get rid of my couch and furnish our living room with only those.
I LOVE that bean bag…it’s actually bigger than it looks and is comfy for adults, too, but it is a specifically-sized child version. I can’t remember where I bought it, but it has a removable/washable cover which was especially pertinent today.
Ralph is SUCH an asshole and is never welcome at our place, but he just comes on over every couple of years anyway. Jerk. Sorry Sadie was visited by that bastard.
What a coincidence! My post today is ALSO about a vomiting child!
Not middle of the night, though, and only once (so far . . . dundunDUN). Fingers crossed both of our delightful offspring manage to keep from puking anymore.
I am with you on the hating to puke/anything to do with puke issue. I can count on my fingers how many times I actually have done it b/c I will absolutely NOT do it if I can help it. I terrifies me on so many levels. I have been through 3 pregnancies and never once yackity-yaked. That my friend, is how much I HATE to do it.
Hope Sadie is all better now and that you guys don’t catch it!
Oh man.
My four year old loses. her. mind. when she pukes. Like, runs in circles screaming, thrashing, hitting, and, um, spraying. It’s HORRIFYING. I guess this is where the universe chose wisely, since I’ve also been a a pediatric nurse for the last sixteen years, and can mostly handle it? Thanks, universe. Thanks a lot.
Poor Sadie and you and Brad. Are you all just smoked and tired?
Ezra ralphed at school (all over the room’s library of books) (derp) on Wednesday and it was with a GREAT AMOUNT OF FEAR that I went to bed Wednesday night. So, so skerred what the nighttime would bring. Poor buddy has only ever thrown up twice so his anticipatory reflex is a bit…immature.
I hope Sadie is feeling much better.
Sorry for you ‘n’ everything, but sometimes I’m so happy to have older kids.
Hello, new fangled Sidney strain of Norovirus. This one is a whore- kicked ass and took names through our entire house a couple of weeks back. Luckily, not all at once! Our oldest (nearly five) has always been a chucker, thanks to a high gag reflex (no texture-y foods, puhleeze!), and went through- no joke- at least six stomach bugs between the ages on one and three. We are blessedly down to about one every couple of years now (knocking all all former plant base furnishings). I am so NOT good about the barf, it gives me serious anxiety. At least when the kiddos are older, then can barf in the toilet, like DECENT FOLK.
Also- ahem- hope you all are feeling well. On the upside- it’s temporary, and can be followed by several days of make-up eating / indulging.