My supermom status takes a dive.
Well, well, well. What a day this has been. Luckily we got to bed fairly early last night or I don't think I could have made it through this day without some kind of meltdown.
First, I need to tell you all something. I am not good with puke. Give me any other mommy job and I'm there with my supermom cape on, but throw-up is simply in another league - one that I don't have my supermom badge for. I usually make Luke clean things up, but when he's working I don't want to wake him up in the middle of the night for something that I should be capable of doing for myself. Case in point: 1:00 a.m. last night I woke to what seemed to be alien noises coming from Titus' room. I leapt out of bed and ran into the room in time to see the second round of vomit make its appearance on his blanket. Me, the ever calm and panic free mom, started freaking out, just a little. I set him on his chair in his room and got down to the gag-inducing business of cleaning up the bed, the carpet, the teddy bear, and the one unfortunate dinky car that got hit. Took a good 15 minutes and then some. Finally the clean sheets, pillow, and blankets were on the bed. I lifted my baby up and laid him down, only to have him throw up on the pillow before I could cover him with the blankets.
This continued until I had put two loads of laundry through the washing machine. By then it was 3:15 a.m. and I was beat, so I lay down on the couch to get some sleep before the next eruption. Before I could close my eyes, I heard Insomnia Boy (a.k.a. Caleb) coming up the stairs to say he couldn't sleep. In our household, this has been a fairly regular occurance for the past 4 months or so, and I was predictably a little grouchy. I sent him back down, only to have him come up again 10 minutes later and complain of a stomachache. Now, not only did I not put two and two together, I made the ironic comment (quite snarkily, I might add) that he should either go to the bathroom, go to bed, or go puke. Imagine my horror when this dear little bo
y ran to the bathroom and promptly tossed his cookies (or, in this case, lasagna).
And so it went, with Titus and Caleb taking turns for the rest of the night and into the morning. Needless to say, they both sat in front of the TV for the rest of the day, nursing a ginger ale and nibbling on crackers. And me? Well, the supermom association called and have put me on probation. I think today might be a good day for a nap.
First, I need to tell you all something. I am not good with puke. Give me any other mommy job and I'm there with my supermom cape on, but throw-up is simply in another league - one that I don't have my supermom badge for. I usually make Luke clean things up, but when he's working I don't want to wake him up in the middle of the night for something that I should be capable of doing for myself. Case in point: 1:00 a.m. last night I woke to what seemed to be alien noises coming from Titus' room. I leapt out of bed and ran into the room in time to see the second round of vomit make its appearance on his blanket. Me, the ever calm and panic free mom, started freaking out, just a little. I set him on his chair in his room and got down to the gag-inducing business of cleaning up the bed, the carpet, the teddy bear, and the one unfortunate dinky car that got hit. Took a good 15 minutes and then some. Finally the clean sheets, pillow, and blankets were on the bed. I lifted my baby up and laid him down, only to have him throw up on the pillow before I could cover him with the blankets.
This continued until I had put two loads of laundry through the washing machine. By then it was 3:15 a.m. and I was beat, so I lay down on the couch to get some sleep before the next eruption. Before I could close my eyes, I heard Insomnia Boy (a.k.a. Caleb) coming up the stairs to say he couldn't sleep. In our household, this has been a fairly regular occurance for the past 4 months or so, and I was predictably a little grouchy. I sent him back down, only to have him come up again 10 minutes later and complain of a stomachache. Now, not only did I not put two and two together, I made the ironic comment (quite snarkily, I might add) that he should either go to the bathroom, go to bed, or go puke. Imagine my horror when this dear little bo
y ran to the bathroom and promptly tossed his cookies (or, in this case, lasagna).And so it went, with Titus and Caleb taking turns for the rest of the night and into the morning. Needless to say, they both sat in front of the TV for the rest of the day, nursing a ginger ale and nibbling on crackers. And me? Well, the supermom association called and have put me on probation. I think today might be a good day for a nap.
1 comment:
Sounds like you're week has been as crazy as ours. Hope the boys are feeling better.
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