1-2-3 Barf

Easy as 1-2-3. My poor little man got his first bout of the stomach flu this morning. 2 separate play-dates lined up, both at water parks, fun in the sun and yummy snacks and a blanket. We were in it for the long haul. All packed up with goodies, lunch and toys and off to the park we go. About two miles down the road and on the freeway, my little man lets out a 5 second cry and off with the projectile vomit while I immediately pull the car to the side of the road. Not sure what to do, I offer him a little water and back home we quickly return.

“Bye-bye! Wes?” he muttered through tears and uncertainty. Poor boy couldn’t understand that he was sick and needed to rest on the couch with his Mommy. A stinky car needed cleaning. A car seat that was just washed yesterday needed to be returned to the washing machine. A little boy doused in his own chunky vomit needed to be hosed off, a blanket filled with the remainder needed immediate attention. My little boy was covered from head to toe.

He released his blanket for the first time allowing me to wash it while he repeatedly uttered “tink, tink” otherwise known as stink. He was beginning to understand his blanket carried the chunky smell that was so terribly potent while giving me a chance to wash this sucker without a meltdown.

Covering the couch in our park blanket to avoid any further mess, we got to rest on the couch while sipping some ginger ale and watching Cars the movie. He sat very well, but would get bouts of pain and point to his tummy. Refusing to nap, I tried to get him to rest on the couch and as that proceeded to fail, I scooped him up to walk outside and admire the few remaining blueberries on the tree for a hopeful distraction. This distraction worked only for a moment as he wanted to walk himself back inside and “BAM,” he fell to the ground busting open his big toe from tripping on who knows what. Sobbing hysterically I scooped him back up while blood showered my shorts and shirt; leaving me not only smelling of vomit but now covered in blood.

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(Sorry it’s a little blurry. Very difficult to take with a sobbing child)

I finally got the band-aid on which was a nightmare in and of itself as he only knows them from our frequent visits to the hospital. Finally, the task was accomplished and my little man stoped crying. Had he not stopped crying, I feared another round of vomit would take place.

Finally, I coax him into a nap. Sweet baby needed to rest. Meanwhile, I needed to clean the car. I feel terrible for my poor boy, but oh how terrible a smell especially when baking in the sun for a couple hours while I tried to man the house, so-to-speak. While walking around aimlessly trying to figure out where to even begin, I gazed upon the interior of the car to find projectile vomit resting upon my iced coffee and water. Woo-hoo for me. I pulled the mats out and began to wash them clean while I Lysol-ed what used to be in liquid form, but now crusted upon the leather. Washing the car seat, wiping down the chunks matted in places I didn’t know existed and vacuuming the remainder. Finally….mission accomplished. Every thing was clean…so I hope.

He is still resting as we speak. So….I truly hope this bout of whatever he has is through. Hoping for no further messes but a bed and a tiny body longing to be cleaned upon his awakening. I have high hopes that he will drink fluid to keep from our usual dehydration. I have thankfulness in my heart that we aren’t managing all of this in the middle of the night. I am sustained as-of-this-moment.

Moment of Truth: It’s easy as 1-2-3 and the mess came forth. But it’s never as easy as 1-2-3 to clean up what has been done.

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