The Long Vomit

If you’re planning to eat anytime soon — or are eating at the moment — save this post for later.

It has been a week since my last post, but no worries — I have not succumbed to fingernail jaundice. I’ve been dealing with lots of puke and two parties, and the two were not connected like they would’ve been in my college days.

It all started at midnight on Wednesday (well, technically Thursday). I was sitting in the living room waiting for my husband to come home from a Willie Nelson concert when Little Man ran into the living room. His wide eyes darted around in a sheer panic. Before I could ask what was the matter, he raised his hand to his mouth, and I knew. He dashed over to the trash can, but before I could yell, “The trash can is full [because I don’t like stinky things and I’m waiting on your dad to get home and empty it],” it happened. Puke everywhere.

I once described one of Baby Girl’s vomiting sessions as being like the nasty little girl in The Exorcist, but Little Man put them both to shame. If projectile vomiting were an Olympic sport, I think he’d have taken home the gold. He covered close to eight feet of my kitchen (including the trash can, island, and stuff on top of the island) with his vileness, which took me 1.5 episodes of Parks and Recreation (which he started watching while waiting to see if his stomach was settled before returning to bed) to clean.

Forget the Long Jump, we’ve got the Long Vomit.

I was hoping that it was something he’d eaten, since we had Baby Girl’s birthday weekend coming up, but it wasn’t. Not long after asking Baby Girl where she wanted to eat that night on Friday morning (her answers included “a wedding” and “chicky chicka,” a restaurant she made up), she covered me from head to toe with vomit. I jumped in the shower while my husband ran a bath to clean her off when I heard a blood curdling scream. I stuck my head out to ask what was wrong.

(I really hope you guys took my advice and aren’t eating right now.)

That wouldn’t be the last time we were puked on, as Baby Girl had an aversion to throwing up in the bucket we kept nearby. She informed me that she didn’t like throwing up in it, but wanted to throw up on ME. Just…what the hell did I do in a former life to deserve this?

Thankfully, like her brother, she was over the worst of it in about eight hours, and we didn’t have to cancel her birthday plans for the following evening. She spent her last day as a three-year-old snoozing in my arms between throw-up sessions. The puke sucked, of course, but I really enjoyed holding her all day and evening. It was like when I brought her home from the hospital again, except for instead of weighing five pounds, she weighed 30.

The rest of her birthday weekend went well. She had a Justice League themed birthday party, which was great, outside of The Pinata Incident. (Let’s just say that one should probably not take apart a t-ball set and give kids the adjustable tee to use to hit the pinata, as the adjustable part can go flying and hit one’s husband.)

So long, toddler years — they’re officially behind us, since we won’t be having anymore kids thanks to the snip-snip-sniparoo. Baby Girl should probably get a new blog nickname at this point (and so should Little Man, since he’s not so little anymore), but Little Woman and Medium Size Man don’t have quite the same ring to them.

 

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#AtoZChallenge: ‘C’ is for Cold

My husband appointed himself the Snot Czar of our household many years ago. This means that he takes it upon himself to handle the snot issues of Baby Girl, Little Man, and myself.

Yes, even mine. I’m a 34-year-old sort of adult, and my husband thinks it’s his job to clear my nasal passages.

You’re probably thinking, “Ew” and maybe even, “Well, at least he cares,” but here’s how he used to deal with that. Instead of running the dehumidifier or cool mist sprayer, whichever of those is meant for helping with congestion, and instead of giving me Mucinex or nasal spray, he would break out the bulb-style nasal aspirator.

The first time he offered, I thought, “Why not?” He used it on Little Man (a baby at the time) and it worked. How nice that he’d go that far to help me feel better, right? I wouldn’t do it for him. (They say that in a relationship there’s always one person who loves harder than the other person, and if the whole mucus/bulb thing is any indication, clearly he’s the one who is more smitten.)

Here’s why not: it’s what I imagine it would feel like if the zombies tried to suck out my brain through my nose during the apocalypse. Instead of just sticking the tip in and suctioning a bit out, he rammed the thing up there as far as he could and I’m pretty sure he came within a millimeter or two of puncturing my brain.

It didn’t help. He insisted that I just needed to be still, stop acting like a child and squirming around, and let him do his thing.

“No, I’ll just wait and let things clear up on their own.”

It’s all fun and games until your husband chases you throughout the house, determined to use this godawful suction thing on you in an attempt to help clear up some of the crud from the monthly sinus infection.

Baby Girl was prone to having colds pretty often when she was a baby, so we constantly looked for ways to make things easier on her. We made sure she was elevated when sleeping, used a VapoRub machine, and used a bulb to get the snot out. Those didn’t help a lot, but one day we found something that did wonders for Baby Girl’s snot:

That, my friends, is the NoseFrida Snotsucker. (You can see the real deal here, and this is not an affiliate link.) It works by placing one end into the baby’s nostril and sucking the other end. Thanks to a tube and filter deal in the middle, you don’t get boogers into your mouth. It works wonders. Baby Girl hated it as much as she hated the crappy bulb, because she hates all the things, but it worked incredibly well.

I sucked snot once and passed on doing it again, because I was concerned about breathing booger air, so my husband took over responsibilities. (For the record, I would have risked booger air had my husband not been around.)

True to form, not only did my husband use the Snotsucker on BG, he also tried to use it on Little Man and me. Little Man cried as much as BG when my husband tried to use it on him, and I threatened to strangle him with it if he went near me. It would have been a shame to become a headline over something like that.

You probably weren’t expecting a kinda gross story about mucus when you saw that I was doing a Blast to the Past theme, but trust me, this is far less gross and embarrassing than the other ‘C’ post I thought of.

Thanks for joining me for the April A to Z Challenge! If you’re participating, please leave a link in the comments section so I can check out your post.

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#WeekendCoffeeShare: Coke, Hobbies, and School

If we were having coffee today, I’d have an assortment to offer you. Walmart had 3-packs for a buck, so I got a bunch of different varieties for my husband to try. (I’ve given up on finding a coffee that I like enough to drink on the reg myself.) I also have over a dozen cupcakes leftover from the soccer banquet, plus cinnamon rolls from the bakery. They were all purchased on Monday, but the date’s still good, so have at it.

At the mention of all of the baked goods lasting the week, you might give me the side eye and wonder how they survived to the weekend. I could chalk it up to having a stomach bug and a cold, but I did something crazy last week — I stopped drinking Coke. (I’ve had one two in the past 10 12 days, down from the 3-4 cans plus a fountain Coke that I’d been having per day. Hides face in shame.) Headaches happened of course, but I noticed something on the days where I do have an appetite — my sweet cravings have decreased a lot. As such, we have treats to offer guests who would risk their health by visiting us.

We’d toast to my greatly reduced Coke drinking habit and then talk about life stuff.

So…life stuff.

Baby Girl has asked to use the potty once per day this week. Usually when we’re away from home, because she prefers using other people’s toilets. (THIS IS SO NOT MY CHILD. You don’t want to know the risk I’ll take just to get to my own toilet.) But she’s asking to go, so that’s something. Plus she’s asking when she’s in the tub, so she’s not peeing/pooping on me anymore. Yay! I’m going to take a week early on in the summer and put her in underwear and try to get her fully trained. She’s incredibly strong-willed, but I’m hoping that if I take off the pull-ups and stick her in underwear that she’ll go with it after getting wet a few times.

I’ve been working on a few orders over the weekend — two necklace orders and a couple of decal orders. Before April, I was making decals for shirts/mugs/projects, pendant necklaces, and more to sell to make a little money on the side. That was going pretty well, but I didn’t promote that at all in April, so I only had a couple orders that month, plus I made stuff for different family members for their birthday gifts. Hopefully I’ll get the ball rolling again in May (or at least learn how to screen print something).

I’d also tell you that I’m trying to work out something to do for our wedding anniversary. My husband took me to Charleston last year and had everything planned out, so I’m trying to come up with something for this year. So far I’ve thought about driving to Niagara Falls, but that’s an 11 hour drive from South Carolina, and I don’t think he’d like driving that much in 2 days. And then I thought about going to Scranton, Pennsylvania since we’re both The Office superfans, but that is also a heck of a drive. Hmm…

Then I’d comment on how I can’t believe school is almost out — Baby Girl’s last day is Thursday and Little Man’s last day is in about two and a half weeks. My toddler will be two years away from starting kindergarten and my son will be two years from starting middle school, which is just crazy to think about!

That’s all I’ve got for today. How was your week?

Weekend Coffee Share is hosted by Nerd In The Brain.

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Life Goals #2

The past couple of days have been rough. I’ll post more later (plus a doodle that may or may not make you lose your lunch; I haven’t decided yet), but let’s just say that the sickness has hit the Dorky household yet again. New month, same problems — stomach bugs and colds.

So as not to go four days without a new post, I’m going to use this Life Goals post that I drew a while back and have been saving. (You can read Life Goals #1 here, if you’d like.)

Let me add “Dishes Mountain, Toys Mountain, and Puke Clothes Mountain” to that. Okay, maybe Puke Clothes Mountain falls under Clothes Mountain, but trust me when I say that it has earned its own category.

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#AtoZChallenge: S is for Sick

Little Man has always had some concerns about germs, but he’s very inconsistent. One on hand, he’ll question the staff at the doctor’s office about how often they sterilize their equipment, and on the other hand, he’ll eat something off the floor without giving it a second thought. I’m not talking about eating a cookie he dropped off a clean floor at home, which isn’t that bad, but more along the lines of scooping up cheesecake with his fingers off the floor at Walmart (which he did with Spidey-like reflexes). The gross factor is through the roof with that one.

Last week my husband asked for a drink of Little Man’s Gatorade. Little Man had just let me have a sip, but he still shot down my husband because of germs. My husband wasn’t sick or anything, so he asked why, and the kid explained how he doesn’t mind too much about drinking after girls, but that drinking after men or boys is usually out of the question because they’re extra germy.

Those are some interesting points; the thought of beard dipping makes me gag, but as far as I know, no one Little Man knows has a beard long enough to dip. For the record, Little Man has grabbed his dad’s drink plenty of times– usually after wiping off the straw or cup rim with his shirt, which we’ve explained doesn’t exactly kill the germs. But that’s where the “inconsistent” part comes to play again.

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