to add insult to injury, she was supposed to go to a daddy slash daughter dance that night at her school. she looked me in the eye after one of her more violent puking jags and said, "so can i still go to the dance?" i explained that not only would she spread germs around to all her friends, her dad wouldn't appreciate her barfing on his shoes while doing the cupid shuffle. she laughed...but then the tears came. there isn't much worse than seeing your own child disappointed. she was so, SO upset and it seriously broke my soul. i had a moment in the kitchen and then went back out and said, "you and daddy can go on a special date another time when you are feeling better." she said, "yeah...but it won't be the same." (it felt like someone socked me in the stomach.) this is one of the things the parenting books can't really prepare you for...a disappointed kid that is. there was nothing really that i could do to make that situation better. she was sick and just had to deal with being disappointed about missing the dance...while i watched. (it was a tough one...i almost did a shot of whiskey in the afternoon to cope.) butch was equally upset when he came home and realized that they couldn't go. that night i crawled into bed with ella at bedtime until she fell asleep and hoped that we would have a quiet night after a day of a stomach bug that just wouldn't quit. (and that no one else would get it...)
luckily, she woke up the next morning feeling better and just ate a bunch of bland food all weekend. so monday night, we all thought we escaped the bug and at dinner time, butch said he was "so hungry" and came out to the table with a massive plate of spaghetti, sauce a plenty, and three large pieces of sausage. he scarfed it down, as he usually does. (more about that later.) now that night we had a chance of impending snow, so we thought we were definitely going to be off the next day. when it snows an inch in maryland, they shut down the whole damn state. i had a coupla glasses of wine, he had some guiness and about midnight i went to bed. at about 1:30am i was awoken by what can only be described as noises that no human being should ever be making...coming from the bathroom. i was all disoriented, but sat straight up as my husband stumbled out of the bathroom and moaned at me, "i'm sick." when he went back in for an encore...i took my pillow and headed downstairs to the couch. when butch pukes it's not an act...it's an event. he is super loud and dramatic about it and i actually had to go back upstairs and tell him to calm the hell down, because he was going to wake up the kids. (he glared at me.) lo and behold, we were punk'd my mother nature and there was no snow the next morning. i got up a little fuzzy and got the kids dressed, ready for school, and fed as he laid in the bed moaning.
part of me did feel bad for him, because i witnessed what ella went through and it wasn't pretty. however, i wondered how long this was going to go on. i knew ella's was less than 24 hours and assumed his was going to be the same. (nope.) so tuesday i took the kids to irish dance after school, made dinner, packed lunches for the next day, bathed them, put them to bed....and he didn't move. (like a dead person in the bed.) wednesday he went back to work, and then proceeded to come home and go back to bed..while i did all the nightly duties again. i started to get pissed at this point and said, "mannnn ella took this bug like a trooper compared to you! this is really bad huh?" i may have mentioned that even at 5 years old, women are stronger than men when they are sick. (he actually agreed.) then he said, "you know how i ate all that spaghetti and sausage that night? well it just sat in my stomach like a rock...and then flew out all over the place. it was saucy and disgusting." (omg.) he went on..."i really don't know how you were ever pregnant. i was in so much pain and there was nothing i could do and my stomach hurt so bad. is that what it was like when you were pregnant? i could never do it." i wanted to mention after allllll the pain i had to muster up the energy to fire a PERSON out of my lady parts...but didn't go there. also, if i mentioned him firing person out of his penis in that moment he probably would've passed out.
so flash forward to this friday and i had a great time at school with my kindergarteners celebrating valentine's day. we did lots of crafts and activities having to do with the holiday and it is always refreshing to discuss love with 5 year olds. they keep it simple and real and say the best stuff. for example, loving someone means "sharing the broom with each other during clean up time at the end of the day."(yep.) as i was driving home, my good friend who runs the daycare where the kids go called me and said, "carrie has been super whiny and dramatic today...i think she is sick." (NOT AGAINNNNNN.) so i called the doctor immediately and took her. turns out it was just a cold. (thank god.) so to be clear, last friday i was nursing a barfing kid during happy hour...and this friday i was at the pediatricians. (if that sounds like fun, parenting might be for you.) after we got home, i heard my 3 year old screaming slash crying and running toward me..."aaaAAAAGHHH! there is SUMPIN in the BATHFOOMmmm!!!" (she was losing her mind.) i figured it was spider or something, but judging from her reaction, i thought it might be an extra from the walking dead or something equally as scary. i scooped her up, took her to the bathroom, and told her to show me what was scaring her (see below.) so to be clear, she was terrified of...a TOOLBOX. my toddler was scared of a toolbox. (par for the course.) this season and all this sickness can be over any day now. until then, i will think warm thoughts, sip my wine...and continually pray for no more puke. party on.
