Was the vomiting really necessary?

So, it took a week, but I finally got a couple of good nights of sleep. I don’t usually hate jet lag this much. It is always less than a good time, but this time it was just inhumane. Part of that was of course my fault, we landed on Sunday, and I sent the family off to school, work, nanny on Monday. Part of that wasn’t my fault, another sinus infection decided to kick my ass, the writer and producers of Homeland created a show that is far too addictive and the kids coped in opposing ways with their tiredness leaving me with but four tiny hours of sleep per night for about a week.

I am surprised that I only had one meltdown, oh no wait, two, but still, for someone who prefers 9 hours of sleep a night, I throw that in the win column.

I did also plan a busy week for myself, which may not have been brilliant but was totally worth it. One of my bridesmaids was in town and we went out for drinks…in a bar, with other adult people, yelling over top of the music, rather than alone in my living room while whispering so that we don’t wake my kids. It was fantastic, and I loved every minute of it. She is fantastic, and fun and so full of life. She made me feel a little less tired, and not just the jet lag tired, but the general tired I have been feeling for about four years now.

I dropped her off at her hotel and got home around midnight, roughly two hours after I would normally be in bed. I was just settling down and putting my head on my pillow when I heard Crazy crying in his bed.

Crazy often has nightmares and cries in his sleep. We just need to cuddle with him for a bit and whatever was scaring him fades away and he falls back into a deep slumber. I got up, and walked into his room. He was sitting straight up in bed. I sat down next to him to ask him what was wrong, I put my hand down on his bed just as he was telling me something and was distracted by the wetness I felt on his pillow. I was totally confused, I mean he was wearing a diaper, and how the hell did he pee on his pillow?

He repeated himself, “I threw up.”

This completely surprised me. Since being on solids, this kid has only vomited once before. When he gets sick, he coughs, his nose runs and he gets wickedly grumpy, but vomiting has never been on the list. Now, after 6 days of not sleeping, the gods of crappiness decided to throw vomit at me. Seriously, was that really necessary?

I took Crazy to the bathroom to get changed and cleaned up and Hubby changed his sheets. A few minutes later he was back in bed and asking for cuddles. I cleaned myself up a bit, and then crawled into his bed with him. While lying there, I started thinking of when I was a child, when I threw up, and how much I hated it. Mostly because I would continue to throw up, or dry heave or vomit bile every 15 minutes for hours. My heart broke a bit and I started screaming in my head. Sure I felt bad that Crazy might have to go through that, but what was really stressing me out was that I wasn’t going to get to sleep and the thought of that was worse than any other pain I know.

If I was ever to be tortutred, they wouldn’t need to threaten pain or whatever else, they could just deprive me of sleep and promise me a bed and I would sing like a bird (sorry for the random tangent, too much Homeland).

As I was reaching the bottom of my bottomless pit of self pity, I suddenly jumped out of Crazy’s bed, ran to the kitchen and grabbed a plastic bowl. I ran back to Crazy’s room just as he sat up again in bed to throw up. I felt like the world moved in slow motion as I matrixed the bowl under his chin, and caught every drop, meaning we wouldn’t need to change his sheets again. I felt like I won a battle.

We got everyone washed up and back in bed. I lied there next to Crazy, listening to every sound he made, listening to Squishy, waiting for the next episode. 15 minutes came and went and everyone was still sleeping. 25 minutes later everyone was sleeping but me. I decided I needed to sleep more than I needed to catch vomit with a bowl and went to bed. If Crazy did get sick again, well, we would jump off that bridge when we got to it.

I crawled into bed again at 2 am. Crazy slept the rest of the night, and woke up as if nothing happened. Hubby and I took turns sleeping the rest of the weekend and we finally feel almost human-ish again.


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