Don't say I didn't warn you....
I ascend the stairs trying to hurry but the visions of past puking experiences slowing my steps. My palms start sweating. I start whispering fervent prayers.. "Please god not on the carpet." I'd be happy with barfing in a full toy box at the moment. I timidly ask Morgan where? ::cringing in wait of her answer:: She points to Nadia's bedroom as her face starts to turn a sickly green. I walk into the room and there she is sitting in the middle of her blankets and pillows with a pool of vomit at her feet. Thankfully none got on the carpet. Now I have a puke dripping child and vomit covered bed stuff to deal with.
I rush her to the bathtub hoping that if her head starts spinning and she spews split pea soup it will be somewhat contained. As I step back into the room my stomach instantly thrusts upward and I start dry heaving.. Thank you very much pregnancy induced nausea.. (I swear a mouse fart makes me gag now) Luckily for my my older daughters see this and take pity on me and agree to get the blankets to the wash. I am so grateful for my older girls when they choose not to be evil tween demons.
After getting her washed and settled back into a clean bed. I give her a cup of ginger ale and some saltines. (thank you pregnancy nausea or I would not have these stocked in my cupboards) The house settles for the night and I think my horror is over. Oh how naive can I be?
I hear my son cry out once but fall back asleep. (he does this often.) My husband comes home and after spending some time together my exhaustion catches up to me and I slowly head up to bed. (I hate you stairs at this point of the day) As I take each step this horrible smell gets stronger and stronger. Until I am at the doorway to Maxx's bedroom. I look into his crib with revulsion. There lays my son with vomit covering his entire head and body. His sheets and blankets are covered. I run out of the room gagging and cry out for my husband's help. He thankfully brings the Scentsy Room spray and quickly douses the room to remove the revolting smell. (I love you room spray, for not covering the scent but removing it!)
I give him the choice.. the bed or the kid. He wisely chose the non-moving one. It took me 4 scrub downs to get all the vomit chunks from his hair and I still had to climb into the shower with him to get him fully rinsed off and cleaned.
I walk back into his bedroom to find his bed stripped. Damn you, slacker!! Job not done... After wrestling a now angry Maxx into some clean pj's I look at the bed and find vomit still covering the rails. ::tempted to start cursing loudly:: Instead I call him back upstairs. (just a tip.. now is not the time to huff or roll your eyes or even mention how tired you are) I wipe down the bed and make Dan remake it. (I didn't realize it needed to be said) I lay Maxx down again praying this is the last puke episode of the night. As soon as his "part" is done my husband abandons me again for the glow of the boob tube.
No sooner do I step through my bedroom door but I hear Maxx call out "Ma!" and listen in horror as it ends in gagging. Not again!! I rush in and grab a blanket in a vain hope of saving this new set of sheets. I lift him up and rush him through the house to the nearest bathroom. I managed to get him to a toilet where he vomits again. Except now he wants to splash in the toilet between heaves. So not only am I wrestling him over the toilet but his hands away from the nasty water. I call for help again but the draw of the boob tube has sucked my normally helpful spouse into a mindless oblivion.
I get Maxx cleaned up yet again and change the sheets myself. (easier to do it myself so I don't attempt bodily harm against my spouse at this point) I go to lay him down again and instantly he starts gagging. So I haul him downstairs and sit with a towel wrapped around my upper body. I refuse to carelessly allow myself to be vomited on bare skin by another child. I learned that lesson with my oldest. ::shudder::
After an hour of cuddling a dry heaving angry bundle, he abandons me and finally curls up next to daddy. Once Maxx falls asleep I angrily tell my husband I am going to bed.. you handle him now.. I am off the clock .. on strike whatever it takes. He gets pissed and tells me "but I was ready for bed." Angry curse words are now at the tip of my tongue. I think back on the past month of him sleeping undisturbed for 7-10 hours straight a night as I in comparison have not gotten 4 hours sleep without being woken by a child or snoring bed mate. I give him a non-verbal sign of how much I care about his "tiredness" and drag myself to bed.
I may be a mom of 4 kids (going on 5) but I can't handle puke. Just the thought of it makes my stomach turn. Being pregnant doesn't make it any easier. Can you handle vomiting episodes? After dealing with my oldest and her creepy colored, when did we eat that chunks pukes.. I just can't do it anymore.
Yes, I do know that it is not good to keep a tally of who did what in marriage, but when you are already pregnant and sleep is a commodity. Lack of sleep can push you to be the stereo typical angry pregnant woman. Even quicker if your partner dares to complain about their tiredness after they get almost double the sleep you do every night.
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