Let's Talk Vomit (A Photo-Free Post)

First of all, I don't DO vomit.  I mean, I vomit, but I don't like other peoples' vomit.  (Who does, really)  Vomit makes me vomit.  I even gag if I have to pick up cat puke.  Even through 7 layers of paper towel, I can still feel the squishiness.

Poop, on the other hand--Bring it on.  Doesn't phase me a bit.

Anywho, back to the vomit.

So last night Banana Boy starts crying at 10:30 pm.  He's been doing this lately.  His foot hurts or his hand hurts and because he has such a low pain threshhold, he WAILS.  My theory is that it's fallen asleep, but I suppose it could be growing pains.  Whatever.  I have to rub it for a while and snuggle him and he can go back to sleep.

So I carry him downstairs and we rock in the green chair.  He also has night terrors, especially when he's overtired and with going full-day to school three days a week now, he is often over tired.

So, to the green chair.  I don't talk to him.  I don't rub him.  I just hold him and we rock under a blanket.  He soon falls back asleep.

Back to bed.

Ten minutes later, he is crying again, so this time I have Mr. GT bring him in bed with us.  He's more lucid now and says, "My tummy hurts."

Uh oh.

Did I mention in our new house, all but a few rooms are covered in new ugly beige carpeting?  Thank you, former owners!

Off we go to the potty.  Potty.  Back to bed.  I rub his tummy.  I rub his back.  He's dozing off.

"Ow!  Ow!  My tummy hurts!"

"I'm hot!"

"I have to go to the bathroom."  Ok, Sweetie, go ahead.  Do you want Mommy to come with you?

(and this cracks me up) "No, only if you want to."  I mumble about how I'd rather sleep, thank you.

And he cries from the bathroom.  I run.

Now, I have to say, he's only ever thrown up twice since we've known him.  The first time was many years ago.  He was sitting on a carpet square on the (carpeted) floor at church and he cried, he coughed, he ralphed.  Very neatly all over himself and the carpet square.

Don't tell anyone, but I just had dh throw the carpet square into the dumpster behind the church.  WE weren't cleaning it!

So, I get to the bathroom door, hear the distinctive cough and turn right around, yelling for sweet Mr. GT.

Mr. GT likes puke.  He gets that from Grandma, who is also handy to have around when there is stomach flu.  More than once, Grandma has rescued me from a barfing kid.

Ok, he doesn't really like it, but it doesn't bother him either.  He NEVER throws up.  He's thrown up once in his life.  Ever.  Lucky.

Have we talked about vomit enough?

Suffice it to say, Mr. GT cleaned up the little rug that sits in front of the toilet.  Yes, BB did it again.  He made it to the bathroom over acres of carpet and deposited right on the little rug.  No fuss, no muss.  Good job, BB!

He cleaned up BB and changed his jammies and brought him and a towel back to bed.  BB's tummy felt much better.

I did not feel much better.  I decided to camp in the boys' room with Sunshine for the rest of the night.

I don't like surprises, especially when I'm sleeping.  Right next to someone's face.

The end of the story:  (thank goodness)  BB only was sick that once, but his tummy did hurt until this morning.  He stayed home from school (too bad, he was supposed to be the Super Star today).  He's kept down 7-Up (doesn't anyone really buy actual 7-Up anymore?  This was actually Sierra Mist), toast and a cup of tea.  I think he just went out to play.

Just before I began to blog, he said, "Mom!  You should have taken a picture of me throwing up for the blog!"

uh, yeah.

Luckily for you all, the only thought that occurred to me at that point last night was to run the other way.  Far away.  In the opposite direction from my camera.