Last night I didn't get to sleep til 1. But once I did, I was dead to the world in the most wonderful of slumbers... Right until I heard Abigail sometime around 9. As usual, she requested we read books. At the library on Tuesday she was adamant about bringing this one home. Irish adventure? She picks the most random books, I swear.
She'd mentioned just briefly that her tummy hurt and part of me wondered if she was just saying that because she knew I'd been sick and had asked her that yesterday. But not taking chances, I told her we should cuddle under a blanket. Classical conditioning will cause her to grab for a blanket whenever her stomach hurts. Because that's what I do for her. It's a shield for potential vomit.
And thank goodness. Because vomit she did. It wasn't out of control but that blanket saved it from getting on us or the sofa or the floor. She managed to vomit on the floor later though just outside of Brady's room. So I was supporting and holding her and attempting to keep the mess on a towel while literally kicking/pushing Brady away with my foot. Remember that sibling BFF thing? He wants her. All. The. Time.
We set up shop downstairs. Watching the piglet movie, Mickey Mouse clubhouse, and strawberry shortcake. And eating toast. If she was t feeling so miserable, it might have been the best day of her life. She was the most soft spoken, sweetest little sickie ever.
And this kid struggled hardcore. Loudly. He does well when there are a lot of people around. If you're alone with him he is grumpy and needy and wants to be held and entertained. With Abigail out of commission, it was just me and him. Bad news. He wasn't happy about that.
Meanwhile, I'm realizing I haven't eaten in a few days and that I should so that. But turns out we have no food. I have no idea what honey has been eating. No eggs, no bread (although I found some later in the freezer!), low on butter, no chicken. I wanted to make cheese eggs but being out of French bread decided to make biscuits. But we're out of those too so I decided to improvise and make crescent rolls but bake them flat. But while I was waiting for the pan to preheat, I realized we only had one egg. But I'd already opened the rolls so I needed to go ahead and use them. I no chicken for a broccoli braid, I decided to make up my own recipe for a taco bake of sorts by taking ideas from other recipes. Starting with this crescent roll pie crust.
Then baby girl came in to get her toast I was making despite me telling her before to just stay on the sofa. She doesn't know "sick etiquette" yet so I think she was confused. So I grabbed this blanket. Because of course she was throwing up within 60 seconds. Just like when I was sick... If you move, you will vomit.
I went upstairs for something, maybe to try to put Brady down for a nap?, and when I came back she hadn't moved an inch. So so sad.
And how my heart aches seeing my little girl like this.
She spotted Cheerios so she got a fistful of those on her towel. And then she cried for some strawberries. Then I saw this box and laughed.
And told her those were raspberries. And explained that they are all gone and we have to wait for more to grow. But tonight I had honey buy some at the store because they're on sale so actually... I'm just a really inconsistent parent.
Meanwhile, Brady is in his bumbo (neeeeeeded to be contained) flinging Cheerios EVERYWHERE and Abigail is on a towel on our kitchen floor eating Cheerios, ritz crackers, and sipping 7up that I had our neighbor bring by (between soup and 7up and 6 hours of babysitting my kids, I've been calling I a lot of favors this week... I have great friends) and I'm still attempting to make this strange Mexican creation.
Pre bake grand finale: crescent roll crust (baked), crushed tortilla chips, a layer of refried beans with salsa, a layer of taco meat simmered with 8ozs of tomato sauce, a thin layer of sour cream, cheese (optimally this would be shredded), and thin crescent roll on top (just because it was left over.
And now it looks like a pot pie. And I had no idea on the cook time for this thing so I ran up and down our stairs and through our house at least the times (literally) checking on it while I gave both kids baths upstairs. So fun.
After 5 hours of being awake, Brady finally took a nap (obviously that first one didn't take) and I got Abigail dried off and dressed in her favorite blue doggy pjs. She was shivering uncontrollably so I wrapped her in this super warm, double thick fleece blanket and we read blue train green train on the sofa while I held her tight to get warm. Then I said a prayer and just held her. And watched her eyes close as she fell asleep in my arms. A sure fire way to know something is wrong is if one of my kids falls asleep in my arms. That doesn't happen when is well.
I layer down a blanket in her crib for absorbency and warmth and transferred her over.
And then checked on Brady. Sleeping. Thankfully.
Then I laid down on the sofa to eat that Mexican thing I'd started at 11. Because if something takes you four hours to make it, you should try to eat it while it's hot. Literally four hours it took me to create that. Create is the word you use for things that take four hours to make.
And while I ate and lounged on the sofa to give my body a rest and take in my first meal since Tuesday, I saw this thoughtful email from babycenter.
You're about a week too late. But thanks for the sentiment.
And then texted honey about the many tender mercies surrounding this week of sick. Like how only one person has been sick at a time and that my honey got sick not on a work day and that he hasn't been out of town this week and that the kids and I aren't traveling like we will be next week and that Abigail was the last to get hit so she got to enjoy her Halloween party and trunk or treat and go trick or treating. It has been as perfect as you could ever ask for with four people getting a stomach bug on Halloween week.
Who else loves that broom and pile situation that happen when you're holding a baby and sweep one handed but then can't get it into a dust pan or the trash can? And that's the Cheerio crusted bumbo soaking in the sink.
Panic Attack. House of filth. I seriously kept thinking of the plague.
So eventually my honey got home. At four. Which is ridiculously early for him but I told him to get home ASAP from his meeting in canyon city. And right after he got home, he had to take a call, which was the very moment Brady woke up.
So I'm pulling Brady out of his crib when I hear a familiar whimper cry gag coming from Abigail's room. With Brady in my arms, I rush in to find she's thrown up in her crib. I leave Brady crawling on the floor while I take Abigail in to the bathroom. And of course Brady isn't happy that I locked him in Abigail's room (we don't have a gate for our stairs yet so I have to contain him by closing the door to whatever room he's in) but he manages and I try to clean up the majority of what vomit spilled onto the carpet below the crib.
Then, this pitiful sight.
Just crouching in misery while the bath fills up. So sad. Eventually Christopher gets done with his call and I give him Brady for a job. I'll take care of everything Abigail and vomit and laundry related... You just take care of that guy.
Then five minutes later I swoop in just in time to save brady from that nasty kitchen Cheerio not swept up pile. Honeys new job: take Brady to the store and buy the items on the grocery list and a 2 liter bottle of 7up. I don't think honey anticipated the speed with which he would need to move to keep up with the pace we've been going at today. It did slow down a few minutes while Christopher and Brady were at the store though. Abigail asked me to turn the tv off and read her a book while I held her in my lap (every time we've read today she's wanted to sit in my lap... Highly unusual because ever since I got too big from being pregnant with Brady, Abigail has always sat next to me instead of on my lap) but then she got tired and we layed down together and she immediately closed her eyes and went to sleep. At 6:15.
But honey carries groceries in with the stealth and finesse of a lumber jack so baby girl woke up again. My honey is an extremely hands on dad but tonight was one of those nights where the mom and dad differences were highlighted and y'know what? Moms are made for this stuff.
Like 10 minutes later when I was feeding Brady in his highchair while honey was in the great room with Abigail. I heard the whimper cry. Honey (while probably still checking emails or whatever on his phone) says something like "you doing okay baby girl...?" as I am literally Spider-Man jump climbing the divider wall that separates our kitchen and great room. I'm half way on the sofa, straddling the wall, when baby girl sits up and hugely projectile vomits over everything within three feet of her.
I may have just slightly glared at honey for not being more attentive to the task I had assigned him. He goes a million miles an hour at work but it's not first nature to be on his a game at home too. Especially on a night like tonight where I was running around like crazy and giving him jobs left and right. Today was so chaotic and hectic. Maybe I should have texted my honey when he was on his way home from work and told him to buckle up for the ride. It's plain and obvious that my Christopher is more skilled at making money and anything work related but tonight it was also plain and obvious to me that, as a mother, I was more naturally in tune with the needs of my children and better able to manage... well... everything crucial within the walls of our home. I am so grateful for my divine nature and my divine role as a mother (and obviously for my
Christopher's divine role as well... He does it so well) and for the gifts and talents I have to fulfill that calling in life.
And because there is not an ounce of parenting that isn't also spiritual, I couldn't help today but be blown away with atonement parallels. Like how I would have given anything to trade places with Abigail and take on her suffering, even though the very thought of that made me cringe because the horrendous sickness is still so fresh on my mind. But also, as I mentioned above (in a somewhat negative way... I swear I don't mean to sound like that), I was able to parent better because of my own experience. Because I had experienced my own stomach bug two days ago, I knew the best way to comfort and help Abigail (like how every time I moved or stood up, I would throw up within 60 seconds, or how a warm bath feels nice at the time but is followed by the most extreme and chilling coldness ever that brings on full body convulsions from shivering so badly) and I wouldn't have been able to have the same compassion or knowledge to treat her unspoken symptoms had I not experienced that misery myself. All things are spiritual... But especially parenting.
Here's to tomorrow being a better day! And that my honey will be here to help!
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