Sunday, November 14, 2010

Team Handeland takes one in the chin

I am patiently waiting my turn. This time, I have no problem being patient. This time, I wouldn't even mind being left out. 

Let's rewind to Wednesday.

It was late. Sometime between laying my head on my pillow for the first time and my alarm going off. Maggie is doing her usual squawking request for help in locating her nuk. I am doing my usual part, trying to ignore her so maybe she'll forget about the dang thing. Her squawking is escalating to serious cries. I go in and rub her back, find her nuk and shush her. It's not working. So I pick her up and start the gentle bouncing. Before I can process the sounds her belly is making, there is puke dripping down my neck and chest and arms. I employ the assistance of my partner in crime (in sickness and in health) and we manage to get everything cleaned up without tossing our own cookies. (Although, it may be a long time before I can eat ham or cantaloupe again.)

We stayed up for a little while to make sure "the well was dry" then tucked our sweet girl back into her covers. And just as my breathing was settling back into a nice slow rhythm, I hear her little cough gag. We ended up repeating the entire process twice more that night and twice more the next morning. By noon, we were out of the woods. Or so we thought. 

The rest of Thursday was uneventful. But come Friday night, when all of our heads were in our beds, The Taz starts in with the belly achin'. "My tummys hurt. Sometings not right. ooooooooohhhh" I hear Troy console her. Then I hear the splatter in the tub. I go to assist. We get her cleaned up and back to bed. I know from our previous nights' bout that we will be in to hold her hair a few more times before dawn.

Sometime between the first and fourth round, I wake up to "splattering" noises and head out of our room only to realize that the sound was coming from OUR bathroom.  Now my chef is tossing HIS lunch . I check on him to see if he needs a washcloth. Then I hear the baby. I go into her room and the smell hits me. Deflated, I say a small prayer that if I am to get whatever it is that has hit our family, that it not get to me until the rest of my brood are out of the woods.

We make it through what was left of the night. We were exhausted and didn't plan on getting out of our pajamas for another 24-48 hours.  Maggie didn't make it. She had 17 cheerios and "reversed" 58 of them. (I wouldn't have believe it was possible if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes.)  Before I know it, everyone was ready for a nap.

I was exhausted. But I did the math; I was next. There was no time for me to nap, I had to make preparations. I started with the bathrooms. I cleaned every surface twice. If I'm gonna spend 24-48 hours in one of them, I want it lemony fresh.  Since I was still doing the math, I figured I wouldn't be eating either. So I baked a fresh batch of brownies and had half the pan gone by the time naps were over.

So here I sit, still waiting my turn. Not really excited about it, but at least tomorrow is Monday and I can take my turn in peace if I have to.

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