WARNING: This is easily the most disgusting post to date. If you have a weak stomach I wouldn’t recommend reading this post. Seriously. It’s pretty bad… Major TMI.
Also, please excuse any grammar mistakes or incoherent sentences. I tried to fix them all, but I have a feeling I only made it worse becuase I’m so, so very tired.
Last night turned out to be one of the longer and more eventful nights in recent memory.
Husband and I were watching a movie when I heard Buddy whimpering at the top of the stairs. It sounded more upset than the usual whiney I-don’t-want-to-go-to-bed whimpering, so I called him down to ask him what was wrong.
He slid down the stairs slowly on his butt. That should have been my red flag. He never maneuvers the stairs slowly. He typically lunges up and leaps down at a terrifying speed.
He came down, nearly in tears and dove into my arms, burying his head in my shoulder. I maybe got out one request to tell me what was wrong when all hell broke loose.
Or rather, Buddy’s stomach contents.
All over me.
Oh. My. God.
This was the first time I’ve ever been vomited on like this. I mean, yes, I’ve been spit up on plenty of times by a newborn baby. But this… this was a whole different kind of monster. It was a surge of projectile vomit straight into my shoulder. So much vomit that it was dripping down my sweatshirt and pooling in my lap.
Oh. My. GOD.
I get it now. I get why parents say it just doesn’t matter when it’s your kid’s puke. Not because it smells like rainbows and looks like a field of wildflowers. Oh, no. The stink was potent. Very potent. And let’s just say I wouldn’t compare the corn and fish we had for dinner last night to a field of wildflowers.
And I can see where the desire to care for your child overpowers your reaction to the puke. But for me, in that immediate moment of being puked on, Buddy’s puke was manageable because there was only one thing on my mind.
I jumped up and totally disregarded Husband’s wide, watering eyes and I dismissed the slopping noise as Buddy’s vomit fell from my lap and onto the carpet.
All I heard were Buddy’s whimpers, and then a rumbling belch, as his second wave of vomit began to rise.
Buddy belched again and stopped in the middle of the living room, covering his hands over his mouth.
Cue spraying vomit due to his strategically placed hands.
OH. MY. GOD.
Husband sat and stared with an unsure look on his face at Buddy and me as we stood in the middle of the living room, dripping in Buddy’s dinner. I don’t blame him for freezing up, I wouldn’t have wanted to come near us either. Thankfully, I didn’t notice it yet. I was still having my single-minded get-my-kid-to-the-toilet moment of clarity. I picked Buddy up and carried him at arms-length in front of me as I trotted the rest of the way to the bathroom.
We made it right outside of the bathroom door before Buddy threw up once more – mere feet from the toilet.
I stepped in the puke trying to carry him the last few feet.
Oh, god. OH, GOD.
My chest and shoulder were starting to feel warm from the puke that covered me. My moment of clarity was beginning to wane and I was struggling to not think about the fact that I was covered in… *gaaaaag*
OH. MY. GOD.
Buddy continued to puke in the toilet over and over as I kicked the door closed and climbed into the tub to start figuring out how to get my sweatshirt off without getting his puke in my hair…
Oh. My. God.
And the smell…
After somehow managing to struggle out of my socks, sweatpants and sweatshirt without getting it in my hair, I climbed out of the tub and went to Buddy who was still puking.
At that point, I had gone from clarity, to disgust, to pity. Poor little Buddy had it way worse than I did. At least I wasn’t covered in vomit and doing the vomiting. I reached over and rubbed his back to comfort and encourage him. “You’re doing so good, Buddy. Just let it all out, Bud. Mommy’s right here, you’re doing so good. You’re such a good boy for getting downstairs when your belly felt so icky!”
*puuuuke* “Otay, Mom.” *belch* … *PUUUUKE*
My heart broke for Buddy right then. The poor kid was feeling so awful. At about the same time, I heard the carpet cleaner turn on in the living room.
Oh… right. Poor Husband had that mess in the living room to clean up.
When Buddy’s puking finally subsided, he was so physically exhausted from the effort that he was trembling and sobbing. This is where my second moment of clarity took over. The doting mother side. I got him undressed, tossed his pukey clothes on mine on one side of the tub, put him in the other side of the tub, pulled off the shower head and gave him a gentle, warm shower to clean and relax him a bit.
After Husband finished cleaning the area of the carpet and the recliner chair that had gotten the brunt of Buddy’s puke, I got him dressed and collected his “bucket buddy”. We went into the living room where we would be spending the night together.
And – I’m either really lucky, or I have a sixth sense for oncoming illness, because earlier in the night I had pulled off our memory foam mattress cover and covered it with blankets in the living room to snuggle with the kids and dog. By some miracle, it escaped Buddy’s mess. So this was the perfect place to sleep with Buddy for the night if he kept puking.
And keep puking, he did.
It was about 11:00 at night at that point and I could tell this was going to be a LONG night. So I asked Husband to take the first hour so I could finally get dressed into fresh clothes, start laundry and make myself a snack for the night since I knew I’d be up REALLY late. They sat up and watched the beginning of Finding Nemo together.
Oh – And by snack, I mean gigantic platter of sushi…
I know. It was a tad excessive. But I’ve never made sushi before and I didn’t realize I was making enough rice to feed an army. Still… I ended up eating about a quarter of it before I was just SO full. (And yes, I was able to manage eating after getting puked on. I was surprised to find that I had worked up quite the appetite after all of that mayhem.)
Buddy and I were up until after 1 AM. He was dry heaving with his bucket buddy about every ten minutes. Finally, he was just so exhausted from the effort that he passed out. From there, He woke up about once every hour to puke. I hardly slept last night and neither did Buddy.
We’ve definitely been lazy sacks this morning.
He’s still dry heaving once in a while this morning, but it’s definitely more spaced apart. Hopefully we can get something in his stomach tonight, but until then, we’re sticking with little bits of toast.
Also, I’m definitely feeling very twitchy this morning. Every time I hear Buddy cough I’m diving for his bucket and thrusting it in his lap. He responds to this with, “It otay Momma. I just a-choo’in.”
Awww. Even after his worst night ever he still manages to be the cutest kid ever.