Monday, January 12, 2015

heart-to-heart, vom-to-vom

Well, it appears we've survived a third week without preschool {"we follow DISD holiday and closure schedules unless we'd like some extra time off"}, multiple earthquakes {WTFFracking} {or, as a friend remarked, "the earth must be sad school isn't back in session"}, sub-freezing temps, and - most harrowingly - B's first stomach bug. 

Much like December's ear infection, we were due for a vomit fest.*  L inherited my stomach-o-steel and has never thrown up, save for once at 18 months when she thought it was funny to gag herself while in her car seat... Nothing like a heaping, stinking splatter of NATURAL CONSEQUENCES to nip that sort of behavior in the bud!  And while hosing partially digested pasta salad off a Britax isn't the most pleasant evening activity, drowsily stumbling into the nursery prepared for some early morning snuggles only to find your baby crusty with dried puke {poor fellow must have upchucked in his sleep and not woken up... which simultaneously terrifies me and breaks my heart in a zillion pieces} {but, seriously, it was caked in his hair and EARS} is something entirely different altogether. 

I thought this first bout went easy on us... We hunkered down Thursday {not a bad gig, given it was 18 degrees outside}, L and I had some much needed solo gal time while little brother took a marathon sick nap, and B seemed right as rain by Friday morning! Huzzah! 

On Saturday, with L spending the night at her grandparents', E and I toasted our little buddy's health with shampooed hair and a babysitter and a proper night out in fabulous company.  Only sliiiiightly fuzzy Sunday morning, I was feeling pretty smug about all the one-on-one Second Child QT I was managing when he forcefully spewed milk all over me and the sectional. After costume changes for all, there was yet another, errrrrhm... "event" of the "opposite-ended" variety. many bodily fluids.  But then he seemed fine?  Happy and smiley and downright cheerful, even? 

I dunno.  We're still eating a lot of dry toast and operating atop a patchwork quilt of old towels.  And no one here has clean underpants. But damn if I don't have enough Sanitation Cycle linens to host a slumber party for fourteen. 

Also, L said the F word.  {"I can't find baby's paci! So I say to myself, 'oh fuck, I can't find baby's paci!'"}  I'd like to think this isn't my fault.  But, you know... it's probably my fucking fault. 

But. BUT!  Tina and Amy are on my TV {"the Golden Gloves, mama!"} and Amy looks amazing in royal purple and I want Emma Stone's pantsuit and Naomi Watts' sparkly snake necklace and Kristen Wiig and Bill Hader just reminded me of something that can turn any sideways week around. 

Nothin's gonna stop us now, Monday! 

*I'm really sorry I wrote all about puke. 


  1. You crack me up! Best wishes for a healthy week for everyone.

  2. They should really have a section in the baby books for the first time your child uses the F word out of the blue. I'll never forget when Davis said it so cheerfully at breakfast one morning and Wade looked over at me, horrified (because if it was either of our faults, it would definitely, definitely be mine). Hope your little man is feeling all better today!

  3. Trent (my son) is 5.5 and has never puked. Drew (my daughter) is 2 and JUST had her first vom session 3 weeks ago and it lasted all of 4 hours. Can't complain with our track record! BUT I'M NOT SMUG SO PLEASE VOMIT GODS DON'T SMITE US AND MAKE MY KIDS SICK!!! I love Emma Stone's pantsuit too and I normally don't like pant suits. I saw Birdman yesterday and it was terrible and Emma Stone looks like an anorexic sicky. And every review says it's amazing and I am just baffled.

  4. My son may have gone through a phase during which he repeatedly said "Jesus f*&King Christ." We absolutely did not react and he stopped and hasn't said it in a year. I was waiting for him to get expelled from preschool.

  5. This is too funny! My daughter attempted to say this word once looked at me while I gave her a scowl and has not said it again (as of yet). I fully blame it on her father!

  6. I am BEYOND terrified of the F word. And S word. You'd never guess but my mouth ... oh it will SO BE MY FAULT (don't tell my husband I admitted to that.) Out of the mouth of babes right?

  7. I read that F-bomb line to my husband and we're both crying we're laughing so hard. That is greatness, L!


happy little comments!