My mother remembers holding two buckets stacked, shared between bunk beds
as her children vomited simultaneously.
I've heard this story for years.
And, yet, as the littles are tucked away tonight, teeth brushed, bodies bathed, lotioned down and jammied up,
I'm breathing deeply and believing
that I endured and survived a similar rite of passage this past week.
As within early dark morning hours, all three suddenly and furiously came down with the flu.
I'll spare my readers the disgusting details,
'cuz those of us in the midst of this crazy ride called young motherhood know full well what this means without them.
(And others who remember these days probably cringe and grimace accordingly.)
But can I just say that there were thirty-five rounds of upchucking?
Many of which simultaneous?
Fourteen of which from one child within four hours?
Laugh if you will, but I started a list, a chart actually, to keep track of who was keeping what, if anything down.
And most of the 48 hours, it was no one and nothing.
I know,
I said I would spare you the details.
So that's all.
Oh,
and
praise the Lord for Rice Chex, Pedialyte and Lysol.
I'd say a good bottle of wine, but I still have 13 weeks to go…
But believe me, I'll celebrate with one then.
P.S.
Speaking of motherhood, another post of the Belly Diaries (including a preggo belly pic) is up over
here.
And if you missed the others, they are
here and
here.
