Puke

Warning: this blog post contains references to vomit and poop and should not be read while eating.

Dealing with other people's vomit is a right of passage as a mother.  In my 3+ years as a mom, there have been limited vomit experiences, but I have caught both children's vomit in my hands and now, I can say, I have also caught it in my hair.

On Sunday night, the kids and I went to the basketball game and exhausted after finally getting them to bed, I got myself into bed.  Around 10:30, Brady woke up yelling for water and he told me his tummy hurt.  A smarter mom would have ushered him into the bathroom, but not me -- I laid down next to him.  A few minutes later, he emptied the entire contents of his stomach (and there was a lot there) onto his bed... and me.  Vomit was literally dripping from my hair.  I ran him into the bathroom where he went for round 2 and understandably, was crying when he was done.  Which, of course, woke his brother up, so now I have two crying boys and a puke-covered head.  And a husband who is not home.  I called Eric and told him to please get home quickly.  Except I don't think I said please.

I cleaned Brady up, brought him to our bathroom and jumped into the shower.  Brady was actually a very brave patient and asked me sweetly if he was going to have to go back to sleep in his bed.  He also asked if I would get him another jersey to wear. By the time I got myself together and put clean clothes on Brady (we even had to replace the socks), Jackson had put himself back to sleep and Eric was arriving home.  Brady got in our bed and had only one more round of puking around midnight -- this time he was able to give fair warning to make it to the bathroom.

Jackson woke again, around 1:30 and had a dirty diaper.  He'd been struggling with tummy problems of his own all afternoon and evening.  I brought him to our bed and I could tell that he was in pain even though his eyes were closed.  He let out the longest fart in the history of farts followed by the loudest and most explosive poop in the history of poops.  And yes, I know those are bold assertions, but they happen to be absolutely accurate.  I changed his diaper and PJ's which could not contain the toxic waste that came out of this sweet boy.  Perhaps after dealing with poop for 3+ years, I am partially immune to its smells and am generally unbothered.  But this was not poop.  This was vomit out of the butt and smelled just how you think that might smell.  And I hate vomit.

So the rest of the night ended as they often do.... with everyone in our bed.  Everyone woke up happy and healthy and all was well....until mommy's tummy started hurting.  But at least my hair was pulled back and I made it safely to the toilet.