Wow. It's been a long time since I've posted anything; it's been that long since I've even checked for comments or looked at other people's blogs. I guess it is the season to be busy. But I want you all to know, I haven't lost any love for my blogging pals. I thought about you on Sunday morning at about 12:45 when I was cleaning up puke. And then I thought about you again at about 2 a.m. and again at about 3...
I was considering the fact that many of you who read my blog are moms or will be moms in the future. I was also thinking about all the blog posts I've read about sick babies or grandbabies. Honestly, I couldn't really relate. Until this weekend, I've only once had to clean up my own child's puke. But in the last 48 hours, I have truly become a real, honest-to-goodness mom. So many of you have reached this stage before me, even with children younger than mine. Just want you to know that now I'm a member of your club.
I have found myself to be grateful to be among you official mothers at this point in my career. Cole picked up on the concept of hitting the trash or toilet pretty easily as a two-year-old. I know that this would not be the case if he were much younger. Don't get me wrong. He rarely hit the can with the first heave of the spell (sorry for the graphics), but those that came after usually landed in the garbage can. I know that saved me a lot of mess. My three loads of laundry from this ordeal could have turned quickly to six or more.
More good news is that the only time he's felt bad in all of this is about 5-15 minutes before he gets sick again. Between those times (which has gotten to be every 3-5 hours), he feels fine: eating popsicles, drinking Sprite, watching Little Einsteins, and riding his bicycle in circles around the kitchen. But the trash can has lurched behind him wherever he's gone.
I'm writing, though, after sleeping almost the entire night in my own bed (I was in his floor the night before) uninterrupted. The only sheets changed were at 8:45, just after he'd fallen asleep. The next time he woke up was at 5 a.m., thirsty. So I'm hoping that he'll be in good shape today. Nurse Daddy will be on duty for the day. And another bit of good news, as if a boy on the road to recovery and joining your club isn't good enough: I was greeted by a two-hour school delay. How else would I get a chance to fill you in on my news?