While I was thinking about what my next post should be I really tried to avoid this topic. I mean really, can I write about this again? Will it be taken as an encore or a lack of creativity? After much consideration, I decided that this blog is about my life and the wonderful things that happen during said life. So here goes...
This past weekend April, David and I took a nice trip down to Houston to see my parents. April had a meet in downtown that was going to take up all of her time on Saturday, so David and I camped out at my parents house while she stayed Friday night in a hotel.
After a long drive David was happy to be out of the car at my parents house. We beat them there by a few minutes allowing me some time to unpack the car. After some play time with Pop Pop (the mere fact you call it that tells me you're not ready)(I just can't help myself) and grandma it was time for bed. Lucky for me he went right to bed without a fuss.
David slept in my old room (ahh memories) and I slept across the hall. Both doors were open and my parents house is an echo chamber so I wasn't worried about hearing him wake up in the morning. Unfortunately, I heard him wake up a little too early. I woke up at about 3:30 to some coughing, almost like a hacking. Since he didn't wake up I thought little of it. That is really error number one, if April was home she would have known immediately that there was a problem. A little later I heard the same hacking so I went to check on him only to find.... you guessed it, vomit. It was everywhere. All over him, his clothes, his blankets and even his little stuffed dog (ironically, the dog's name is lucky). It was a sad scene.
So I got him all cleaned up and in some new clothes and told him it was time to go to Daddy's bed now. Mistake number two. See where this is going yet? I laid him down next to me and he curled up nicely. He thought it was great because he was in a big boy bed. I looked over at him and he blessed me with the greatest smile ever. Really was great.
All smiles aside, it was still 4:30AM and I wanted to sleep. I kept still and quite thinking he would sleep but I was wrong. His little Mary-Kate Olson impression revved him up. He was awake and sleep was not on his schedule. So, awake at 4:45AM away from home and mommyless. Luckily there was a TV in our room with access to some nice children's programing. We were watching TV when it happened. David turned away from me and started coughing... There was more vomit. But I learned from my last experience! Go me. I had a towel ready and waiting. Unfortunately, I forgot that David came from a long line of vomiters who would scoff at the small towel. You better come armed with a whole body sheet if you want a chance of containing what we can offer! In this instance, I was able to direct the vomit to a convenient location. So with a little bit of cleaning up we were back to TV watching for David and snoozing for Daddy.
A little while later David thought it would be fun to climb on Daddy or that's what I thought. He climbed up on me and we were face to face when he decided to yak again. This time, it was all over me. I mean all over me. Mouth was closed thankfully but my face, ears, hair and so many other places were not spared. So I decided at the wee hour of 5:45 it was shower time. Normally, when I'm up and at em at or before 6AM I feel like I've accomplished something but not this morning. This was something totally different.
Later that morning when everyone in the house was awake David continued this throw up barrage. Only now, he had someone to blame it on. After he'd let loose the contents of his stomach, he would go get the mop and stand nearby my mom and me while we cleaned up, and tell us that he had to clean up the water that grandma spilled. He told everyone he saw that day that grandma spilled water on the floor in lots of places and he had to clean it up. I rather enjoyed that part of this episode.
Throughout all of this David remained in a good mood and after each bout of sickness he would say, "ok, I'm done" and then would climb up in my lap for a few minutes of hugs. Since April was away at work I got to enjoy every minute of those hugs. While I hated him feeling badly I loved the time I got to share with him that normally was reserved for his mommy. So if being thrown up on always leads to really nice hug time with my son, bring on the vomit.
So speaking of the long line of vomiters (this memory is for you Ailsa) there was a time on a family car trip when my brother Chris (same brother from last week) felt sick. My mom, in an effort to give him something to yak in threw all of the water out of her "copilot" cup. My brother looked at my mom and laughed at her knowing that that measly 32oz cup was nothing compared to the torrent of nastiness that was going to explod from within him. He was right. I saw. Yuck. You would think he'd grow out of that but he hasn't. Every once in awhile I get to hear of a Chris vomit story and it warms my heart.
What I learned from this story: 1. David hurled all over the room my family stays in while we're at mom and dad's, and 2. You enjoy the fact that I laugh at your stories until I cry. By the way, that last little vomit episode occured in Kansas. I was driving. Dad was none too happy with how slowly I was pulling over to the shoulder. I recall everyone laughing at mom's futile effort to help out. Kansas will never be the same.
ReplyDelete