Have you ever been woken up at 1:00 in the morning by the sound of puke hitting the tile floor right outside your bedroom door? No? Well, consider yourself a lucky fucking duck. It isn't the best way to wake up. Between the sound and smell of it all, it might actually be one of the WORST ways to wake up. Or maybe I'm just being a baby.
The puke fest started on Friday. Not with my kids, mind you, but with my nephew. He also woke me up with his puke. He expelled his warm milk all over my husband's precious leather recliner. On the downside, WARM CHUNKY FUCKING MILK!!!! On the plus, it slid oh so gracefully right off the leather without staining. Sweet. I thought it might be a fluke, the puke. The little guy is a bit sensi and actually pukes a lot, so I went on with our day. Flash forward to the drive home from picking the big girls up at school. About 2 minutes from my house and he filled his car seat with scrambled eggs. There was eggy puke ALL OVER HIM and the seat. It was highly upsetting, especially when I thought he was choking and I was frantically trying to drive and NOT crashthe car. Ugh. But again, this puke came out of nowhere and he wasn't acting strange before it happened. What the fuck?
The next day, Saturday, my husband and I were due to watch my niece and nephew so their parents could go on a date and celebrate their anniversary. I was weary to have him over again, lest he have a stomach bug and not just a sensi belly. Well he was fine all morning and afternoon, so my sis-in-law (bestest fren 4 eva) dropped the kids off. The day went smoothly and the kids were happy as all get out. When bedtime came around I started heating up the little's milk. As soon as the first sippy cup was warm, BAM! the little guy walked into the kitchen and threw up ALLLLLLL over the floor. I called his mom and he went home for the night.
Sunday was a good day. Our little family and my SIL's family met at the beach. My nephew seemed fine, once again. Our husbands went fishing and we took our kiddos on a nice bike ride followed by yummy milkshakes and ice cream cones. At home later that evening, bedtime was a breeze. Everything was fine until 1:00 AM.
My oldest lady puked all over the couch. She then puked all over the tile outside of our door. My husband took care of her while I cleaned the tile. Then he cleaned the couch. Meanwhile, my youngest was yelling my name from her room. I opened her door to find 3 piles of milky vomit on her rug. I cleaned it all up, reassured her the whole time, and went to the kitchen to get her water. Where I was greeted by another pile of throw up. And then she puked again. And again. All in the kitchen. Easy cleanup, no big deal.
The husband fashioned a puke trough for our oldest using a large cooler and contractor bag and put her to bed on the couch. Yes, it was super clean before he put her back there. I rocked our littlest lady, let her vomit a few more times on a towel, and put her to sleep. I slept in her sister's room across the hall so I could hear her if she needed me.
Nothing more happened during the night. None of us got out of bed until 10:30 the next day. I walked into my room for something, I don't know what, and almost shit my pants when my husband started talking from the cocoon he made for himself in our bed. Yes, apparently he had also been hit but the stomach monster. Fuck.
My oldest little and husband both had a fever all day Monday. The littlest little? She was a ball of fucking non-stop energy all day. This reiterated my thinking that toddlers are the most resilient beings on the planet. Also, their energy is boundless and I will ALWAYS be envious of that. It also confirms my theory that men are the WEAKEST beings on the planet when they are ill. But I digress.
So the husband and oldest chitlin stayed home on Tuesday as well. They still felt pretty shitty. I took the tiny one out for the day to escape the nastiness of the house. Plus I needed to get the fuck out before I started climbing the walls and seeing things that weren't there. Cabin fever is real, yo.
Somehow I managed to escape this latest plague unscathed. I don't know how, but man I am thankful as hell for that. The storm is over for now, the vomit is gone, and the house is clean. I give us about 2 weeks before the next round of sickness hits. Anyone want to take bets on that? The odds are ever in your favor :)