Nearly always.
That is my internal response to my own question of "Do I enjoy being the mother of a large group of children?" The answer is almost exclusively yes, even when I know darn well the answer should be NO at times, like say dinnertime or churchtime or bedtime (or is it bedlamtime? I always confuse the spelling) or spanktime. (I have learned to be wary of all those family events that end in "time". They can be tricky. But still fun, or at least productive, in a "Well, the gals at the office will sure get a kick out of this" kind of way. *Note: You are all my gals at the office.)
But there is a time, a very specific time, when I shrink back in horror and actually mouth the words I want my mommy. And that evil hour is whenever I find myself looking at dinner, at some wee hour in the morning, staring back at me from the carpet. In my child's room. And through the hall. And also in my room. And then on my bathroom floor, evilly seeping under the baseboards. And just like in a horror film my flesh begins to creep, and the terror wells up inside me as I realize my doom: I have a sick child. Correction! I have 5 sick children. (For Pete's sake! What was I thinking, producing such a bounteous crop!) Because I know that even though my children may never learn to share the remote or their time in front of the darn video games, they are as devout as little Quakers when it comes to sharing the Barf Bug.
I will spare you the further details except to say that the contents of Josie's stomach at 11:30 pm, 2:30 am, and again at 6:30 this morning in fact prove what I merely suspected last night, that she ate nothing but rice and at least one Hershey bar for dinner. And that is positively the last that I am going to say describing the crime scene. Because we are friends, and I like you.
I will, in closing, just say this: In every courtship there needs to be very frank talk about many important topics: Finances, Religion, Child-Rearing, Acceptable Driving Speeds, etc., and let's not quickly gloss over one of the most crucial: Barf Removal. Because it is only my preknowledge of Pie's feelings about puke from our days of courtship (or should I say his complete incapacity when presented even with the idea) and our prenuptial agreement regarding said puke, that I can almost without rancor or much bitterness at all, say these words to my children, "Don't worry Honey, Mommy will clean it up".
About Me
- Julie K
- Colorado, United States
- Julie is happily married to her first husband Pie (yes, that's his name) and together they have 5 children; 14 year old son Sid, 11 year old son Calvin, 9 year old (invisible) twins, Josie and Jon, 5 year old son Tommy and that is all her womb is willing to produce. She enjoys hating to cook dinner and has recently discovered the love of her fitness life: ZUMBA!!! It is her life's ambition never to own a pet or cook a turkey, and her TV boyfriend is David Bromstad. She grew up in California but has lived in Colorado for the past 15 years. She still gets a little bit offended every time it snows.
7 comments:
Oh no. OH NO. OOOOH NOOO!!! So, how can you be so hilarious in the midst of it all (literally)?? Thanks for making me feel cool like a gal at the 'ffice. I guess the silver lining is they could all be puking simultaneously in the confines of your minivan, right? Right?!!! When this plague is done, doesn't your prenup call for a trip to the dayspa for you, chased by a cheesecake and some serious spicy fries with a shake? Because you deserve the Puke Purple Heart for this one.
Careful, there, little one. Go easy on the spicy fries and cheesecake--I am still a wee be like the victorian woman with an attack of the vapors. At least it feels that way. Lots of vapors around here to be attacked by. And Pie left this afternoon for San Diego. Looking most peaked, I rather smugly admit. Tee hee.
I still flash back on a particularly horrible episode of vomiting when my four-year-old daughter threw up peas in bed. The really bad part was that she had exceptionally long hair...and even though I bathed her and washed her hair...I had to manually and painstakingly remove those peas one by one. They were stinky. That was the time each of my four kids got the throw up bug in succession. So...there was throw up...for a VERY LONG TIME. And I've just never felt the same way about peas.
Thanks for the movie tip! Oh and by the way... I have already read the twilight series and i loved it. I think Kirsten is the only one left on the planet who hasn't!! Yes the wedding is consuming my life and I guess I will be quilting or house crap after the wedding! Hope all is well!!
Right there with ya, sista. All you have to do is let that gag reflex just go wild next time you clean up barf, thus creating a whole other mess for your beloved Pie to clean up. No more barf duty. But, I think you're too much of a saint to do that. Me, on the other hand.....not so much a saint. We don't have that prenupt anyways:) Hope the whole crew is feeling better!
You're in my prayers.
I hope the barfarama is over and your family is feeling better. NOT fun!
As I read this post, I was reminded of a Christmas years ago (many) when my whole family (10) at the time had the stomach flu. That is, all by my big sis. She played nurse for 24 hours and then begged someone to feel better.
I think you should arm Pie with a clothespin for his nose, rubber gloves, and shower cap and put him to work next time a child throws up. It might be wise to have an ammonia capsule on hand as well.
Take Care!
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