Last night, in the very wee hours, I was awakened by one single word. "Mummy!" It's the call that sends shivers down your spine at 4 am. As Barry dashed out of our room, yelling, "I think we've got a puker" behind him. I tried to decipher whether or not, I'd heard someone call my name, or dreamed it. As I struggled out of bed, and made my way down the hall, the smell hit me, and I realized, I hadn't dreamed it at all. As Bar diligently tried to get the stain out of the carpet, I stood there, not really knowing what to do in my sleep-dazed state. It will be great once the kids get to a point that they can either a) make it into a bucket, or b) make it into the bathroom, without leaving this wake of utter chaos behind. Nothing like removing sheets, undressing, and moping up puke in the middle of the night. What parent hasn't spent their weekend renting a steam cleaner, and hoping that it won't make a worse mess than you started with. Ahhhh, the true call of parenthood.
Poor Mason threw up every half an hour, all day. It was a very long day for all of us, and Madelyn is so concerned about her brother having the 'flea bug'. I think I can count on one hand the times that Mason has been side-lined on the couch, not wanting to get up for anything. It's so hard to watch, and be so completely helpless, when there's nothing you can do but pat backs, stroke heads, and mop brows. I was hopeful this would only go on for a while, but it's been 16 hours now. Here's hoping that it only lasts 24 hours. And I pray he will be the only one that will succumb to it.
As he lay on the couch this morning, I came around with the camera, and he so pitifully said, "Please Mum, don't take a picture of me when I'm sick" I had to put my camera away, until he fell asleep. There's a scrapbooker for you, with not a lot of compassion. But at the same time, I thought, hey, this is our every day. And getting sick is a part of life, like it or not.