I finally get all the kids in bed last night and spend the remainder or the night picking up, cleaning, read a little, blogged a little, and watched a little tv. Eventually the girls went to sleep and I was headed that way. I'm walking back to check on everyone and make sure that they are covered up when I walked by Junior's room. His door was shut but I could smell a dirty diaper. I debated about whether or not I should change it since he was sound asleep, but decided that I better get it over with since it was already after 11. I open his door and am met with the foulest odor in the world.
Any mom knows that smell.
The boy has barfed. Knowing that I am oh-so-lucky because I have given birth to a child that can throw up and not wake up, I turn on the light. Yes people, there is my sweet, innocent, baby boy asleep in his own vomit. Not lying on the other end of the crib away from it, not lying next to it, the boy is lying right smack dab in the middle of it. He has even managed to wallow in it so that it is covering his entire face. So I do what any other not-so-good-mom does and cry.
I went back to the living room and put out a towel, got the wipes and a warm washcloth. I go back and grab my barf covered baby and he begins to scream. I change his diaper (because of course he had to have diarrhea and diaper rash), wipe him down and change his clothes. He screams the entire time and I just keep telling him over and over "If your sisters weren't asleep, I would scream with you."
I leave my screaming child on the floor and then go back to attack the crib. I put on a new sheet, a waterproof piece of material, a towel, and wipe it down. Junior is still screaming, but I found a non-barfy binky and tucked him back into bed. He snuggled up under his fuffy and fell right asleep.
And then I waited. I waited for the next round. I started barfy laundry. I got out towels for barf. I located barf buckets for the girls. I reminded myself how Junior stuck his binky in my mouth at swim lessons while I was not paying attention and he was feeding me goldfish. I start to feel barfy myself.
I wait a bit....no barfing so I get into bed. I lay there on the verge of tears. Gunner is the keeper of barfy children, I am not. Gunner could fall right back asleep and not worry about who was going to get sick next, I cannot.
I start hearing things and am up and down every few minutes for the next hour while I make sure no one is getting sick. I finally fall asleep.
No more barfing....yet. Junior is still asleep. The girls are still asleep. I'm scared to wake up anyone for fear that will change.
I got an email from Gunner this morning (about my post last night) that said "I couldn't stop laughing so hard. I could just imagine Emily standing there with that look on her face. oh, she is so priceless. She is going to have your feisty-ness (sp?), that I love so much. I am really homesick now. I love and miss you all so very much. I think you are doing a great job without me and I am thankful that I have a wonderful wife. Hang in there and this will be all over before we know it. I love you. Gunner."
And then I cried. I cried because I have a great husband who knows exactly when I need to hear that I am doing an okay job. I cried because he is missing out on so much. I cried because I am tired.
And now it's time to wipe those tears away, get the girls up for school, spend the day cuddling a sick baby while sanitizing the entire house, and hope that no one else gets sick.
And if they do....you'll probably hear me scream.
Long Overdue
3 months ago
