Not A Pretty Post

I. Feel. So. Much. Better.
YEA!!

What follows here is pretty much a blog about puking. Don't read it if you're feeling queasy.

Ok, but don't say I didn't warn you.


When my kids were little, the puking incidents mostly revolved around cleaning up the bathroom a bit, and washing bedsheets. I mean, there was some gagging involved (on my part), but it's part of being a parent right? And I was willing to accept that. A little Coke, some saltine crackers, towels laid out on the bed, and a bucket sitting nearby. 3 out of 4 kids did great with this. Then there's the kid who has about a 90% average of MISSING the toilet or bucket (or sink, or baggie, or ANYTHING but the carpet). She just apparently does not get the signals when she is going to heave.

(Several years ago, we had an incident where she puked, and then in coming to my room to tell me that she puked, she left a trail all the way down the hall. Including on the walls. OH MY HECK. The Brain developed a system of laying out a little towel path for her all the way to the bathroom. Now we just had to talk her into staying on the path. I will say that over the years it has saved lots of carpet shampooing.)

Anyway, this week was the first time I remember all of us being sick at the same time. Ever. 4 bathrooms, 6 people, you do the math... So we had one towel path, (which i WILL say went unused this time - thankyouverymuch) and mostly everyone just wanted to be left alone. About every 4 hours or so one of us got up to do a gatoraid and saltines round through the bedrooms. And I was congratulating myself on getting through this without having to deal with anything (other than my own problems) that might make me gag.

Toward evening, everyone was apparently feeling well enough to come to the kitchen. As I walked in, there they were, sitting at the table comparing puking stories like mothers with birthing stories at a baby shower. AND THEY WANTED ME TO SIT THERE AND LISTEN. I don't want to hear about the nachos coming our of your nose, or what flavor of gatoraid is the best on the way back up. Talk about gagging! So I guess , as with everything else, this parenting task has not really been eliminated as much as it has just morphed. I'm still gagging here.

Remind me after my life calms down in about 2 weeks, and I'll tell you the hilarious story of a certain daughter, yeah, you know the one - and the "incident" in the school hallway, and why the janitor might be laying out some little towel paths to the bathroom sometime soon. Gotta get permission to tell you anything more. Let's just say -Oh MY HECK.
Poor thing.
Poor all of us.