Sunday, February 1, 2009

What's up, Chuck?

Do you know what is the scariest thing for me to wake up to in the middle of the night? A child crying out from a nightmare? No. A child falling out of bed? Nope. A burglar ransacking my house? Not even close. It's these five words: MOMMY, I'M GOING TO PUKE! Nothing jars me out of bed quicker than the thought of being splashed in the face with up-chuck! "WELL, GET TO THE BATHROOM!!!!" We had a fun night of this Friday. Drew had been coughing and coughing and coughing as I was lying down to go to sleep at 1:00 a.m. I helped him into the bathroom, but nothing happened so I laid him back down with a big bowl. A couple of minutes later, I still heard lots of coughing, then rapid running of his feet followed by "SPLAT. SPLAT. SPLAT" and more running into the bathroom. Fantastic. Apparently he made it into the bowl, then left the bowl in his bed as he ran into the bathroom, leaving a colorful and stinky trail into the toilet. Yay! I love cleaning that up in the middle of the night! And did it just get onto the tile floor where it would be easier to clean up? Of course not! It got all over the carpet, and then stopped just before the tile. When Edward and I were in bed again after cleaning up the mess, we both said we think it's getting harder to clean that up the older we get.

My kids have always been pukers. As babies, they could spit-up like no one's business. Ross was the worst! It was PROJECTILE, but it never seemed to bother him. He was unbelievable, I tell you! He would spit up (similar to the pressure you see from a fire hose) and finish with a smile on his face. We once had a family gathering at my parents' house when he was six months old. Everyone was lounging around the living room, and I was standing up, holding him as he was facing out toward everyone. He spit up, and I tried to swing him away from everyone, but it didn't work. I am not exaggerating when I say he sprayed fifteen feet, in a motion similar to a sprinkler. Everyone ducked for cover. My brother-in-law literally dove behind the couch, just as a combat soldier would. When Ross and Elizabeth were little I called them "Barf Boy and his trusty sidekick Gag Girl." After Drew was born, he had some trouble and had to stay in the nursery for a few hours before I could hold him. When they finally wheeled him into me after what seemed like an eternity, he spit up a bunch, and I said, "Yep, that one's mine!"

The kids don't get upset stomachs much at all. But when they get colds, look out! I would MUCH rather them get a stomach bug than a cold. They cough and cough until they erupt. I think it's a combination of their honkin' big tonsils (well, before the oldest two had theirs removed - Drew is next!) and their VERY sensitive gag reflexes. So, if your kid has a cold, we're steering clear of you!