"The Mommy Scream" by Mila

Warning: Reader discretion is advised. This blog post contains information about a lot of puke. So, I know you’ll read it. Everyone loves a good puke story, right?

The luck of the Irish has clearly turned on me, and in March of all months! That’s just cruel. Thanks for nothing, St. Patty. Although I knew this day would come, I wasn’t prepared for how truly awful it would be. For nearly four years of having little ones, I’ve been lucky enough to avoid vomit clean up duties. I think I’ve made up for lost time now.

My husband and three children have come down with the stomach flu. I haven’t gotten it yet…knock on wood. My hours may be numbered though. Isn’t that always how it goes though? Mom takes care of every sick member of the family, and then Mom totally gets slapped in the face with illness, a lovely parting gift for her care and devotion to her family.

It all started Sunday when Mila threw up just as we were heading out the door to church. After spending half of the day throwing up, she rallied in the evening. By Monday, you wouldn’t have known she had been sick.

After a whole day on Monday of no vomit, I thought we were in the clear. That dream all shattered around midnight when my husband woke up to throw up. After seeing that he was ok, or as ok as you can possibly be while puking your guts out, I dragging my tired little fanny upstairs to sleep in our guest bed.

Two hours later, I heard screams. Siler was crying that kind of cry that tells you something is wrong. As soon as I opened the door, the stench hit me. I knew this was a disaster of epic proportion waiting for me. My little boy was covered from head to toe in vomit. There’s nothing more thrilling than changing crib sheets and giving a toddler a bath in the wee hours of the morning.

Just as I was finishing up that disaster, I heard more screams. “Mommy, Eli threw up in the sink,” screeched Mila. Honestly, I was elated that my little guy had the forethought to get to the sink to do his upchucking. That’s a son who’s got his mama’s back. However, I quickly learned that he’d already thrown up in his bed.

What a morning! By 5:30 a.m., I already had my first load of laundry going.  I wouldn’t wish this stomach bug on my worst enemy. I’ll probably have posttraumatic stress disorder when all of this is over. I’m holding out  hope, though, that the Lysol fumes will just give me permanent memory loss of this entire day.

Mila drew the picture for today’s blog post. She said the picture was of me, and I think it pretty much sums up how I feel and look today. It’s a little reminiscent of  the painting “The Scream,” don’t you think? Then again it could be those Lysol fumes getting to me.

Popularity: 7% [?]