At this point in my life, 4 kids, 8 years in, I'm no stranger to gross. There's a stomach bug making it's way through the girls' school right now, and Aurora had it a few days ago, it only lasted 24 hours, no big deal. She woke up in the morning and said her tummy hurt, then she barfed all over her bed (okay, that was kind of a big, gross deal). Awesome! So, we obviously kept her home from school and (after changing her sheets) she laid in bed all day, watching cartoons. I expected this to make it's way through the rest of the kids at some point, but I was hoping it would be with the ease of Aurora's case. Barf a few times in the morning after we're all already awake, then spend the day cuddled up with stuffed animals in bed while watching Dog With A Blog.
So, as my nights often go, we start out with no kids in our bed, and at some point in the night, the twins always make their way into our room, either to pee in our bed, or as in last night's case, to barf all over our bed. Oh, yes, this is the life! Last night, it started with Atticus. He went from deep, peaceful sleep to a suddenly gagging barf-sprinkler. I rushed him to the bathroom to hold his head over the toilet when I noticed a horrible, foul, FOUL smell- cat shit! So there I am, helping Atticus balance his head over the toilet without falling completely in and I notice a pile of steaming fresh cat shit sitting on the bathroom rug. Then it dawns on me! I had scraped out and hosed out the cats' litter box earlier, then left it outside to dry in the sun and I had forgotten to bring it back into the house. AWESOME! So here I was at 1am; sick toddler, cat shit, trail-o-barf through the hall... where to start?
I get Atticus back into bed, then Bea starts saying that she needs to throw up. Bea is really dramatic. REALLY dramatic, and often pretends to be hurt or sick so she gets attention. If somebody hits their head, suddenly she "hit" her head. If somebody's toe hurts, suddenly her toe "hurts". If I call her bluff, she can even shed convincing tears and cry "but, I looove yooou!" and make me feel extreme guilt. I didn't know if she was lying last night, but I took her word for it (because who wants to take a chance with that??) and pulled her into the cat-shit bathroom, I then watched as she lightly coughed over the toilet and said "all done" then bounced back to the bed. I took a minute to pick up the bathroom rug and toss it out the back door into the rain (I get to deal with that today) then I wiped up the trail-o-barf, and got back into bed right when Atticus was ready to say hello to the toilet again. So, back we went. Then (surprise!) Bea joined us again with her little princess cough, and the three of us shuffled back into bed. Then, believe it or not, Bea said she had to throw up, and I reluctantly brought her back into the bathroom because, like I said, who wants to chance that?? And whadaya know? She barfed! So we spent the rest of the night and into the morning doing this dance. We've only got one kid left for it to hit, so I'm hoping the worst of it is in the day because I don't know if I can handle another sleepless night- It felt like I was revisiting the newborn days- SUPER FUN! Not.
Now, off to hose cat shit off a rug!