Friday, April 27, 2012

The Other Times Vol. 2

Over on the couch, Jack sleeps soundly, bundled up in a blanket next to his dad.  "Big Bang Theory" is on TV and the only other sound in the room (aside from Howard Wolowitz) is the soft hum of this laptop.  It's peaceful tonight.  But last night was a very different story.  For this is a tale of a virus, some yoga pants and the night I most likely flashed my neighbors.

Jack didn't have dinner last night.  Trevor and I commented on how his little daycare report card mentioned that he was very hungry all day so we shrugged off this little blip on the "our kid is totally normal and healthy" radar and went on with our night.  We bathed him, changed him into pajamas and Trevor said, "I'll take care of the dishes if you want to nurse him downstairs."  I suppose I should mention here that, oops, I have not yet completely weaned my son.  I knew there was something I forgot to do!  And since he hasn't yet learned how to tie a little napkin around his neck, walk up to me and unbutton my shirt, I'm still ok with nursing (especially considering my nipples are like titanium now).  So we nurse and it's a very peaceful way for both of us to end our day.

There we sat in our little nest, the dim light of a lamp creating a golden glow.  Why is life always so wonderful before it's so incredibly horrible?

I heard the garage door open and my sister Mary peeked down the basement stairs.  She had decided to pay us an impromptu visit for the night.

"Shhhhh.  Jack's sleeping."

He stirred in my lap and tossed and turned.  Mary AKA "Bean" quietly came down the stairs.  I looked down at Jack, something was coming out of his mouth.  My sister noticed also and said "Oh!  Jack's spitting up."  And then...oh then...

At this point, I would kindly ask you to open up a new window or tab in your browser and play this music for ultimate effect.  I can wait...

I saw Jack start to vomit on the pillow.  "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

This must have startled him because he turned his head toward me and a fire hose of puke came raining down on my chest, shoulder, arm and...oh, did I mention I was nursing at the time?


Our Lady of the Most Excellent Timing or the Most Unfortunate Timing, depending on how you look at it, took Jack into our basement bathroom to wash him off as best as she could.  Meanwhile, I sat on the couch, paralyzed, arms outstretched like a scarecrow while pieces of banana? bread? apples? fell onto my lap and bounced onto the floor.  The pillow Jack had been laying on was completely drenched.  Trevor poked his head downstairs while Bean and I looked up at him.  "PUKE!!!"  He sighed.  A sigh that says "this night was going way too smoothly."

Trevor came downstairs to bring Jack to the bathtub.  I remember saying "Take him to the bath!!!  Babies never puke once!!!  Goonies never say die!!!!" (I didn't actually yell that last one, I just didn't want you to forget)

St. Mary of the Defiled Boppy took the pillow and placed it on a towel on the basement floor.  With all the gracefulness of a marionette, I attempted to rise from the couch with all of my pieces attached to me as to not create a bigger mess.  I threw my tank top onto the sloppy Boppy.  I walked into our kitchen with my arms folded over my chest (remember when I said I had been nursing?) and looked right out the kitchen window onto the street.  My head whipped over to the open curtains in the dining room and living room.


She ran throughout the downstairs leaping over chairs to close the drapes for me so I could wrap my hands in paper towel mittens and clean up.  I ran into the bedroom and immediately disrobed only to find myself standing there naked with nothing to wear to go back out into the kitchen.  I spied a pair of yoga pants on the floor and pulled them on yanking them over my chest like so many grandpas on the beach with shorts pulled up to their collar bones.

I checked on my little family- Bean sitting on the toilet, Jack in the bath and Trevor kneeling next to the bath.  I did a little jig for them in my makeshift yoga pants jumpsuit and then went back to the basement and into the shower.

At this point, feel free to stop listening to Carmina Burana, the night got calmer from here...

The night ended much like it began.  The soft glow of the basement lamp, Jack sleeping softly, but this time in Trevor's arms with a plastic wastebasket at the ready, which he used...3 times.

The bug made it's way out of his little body over the course of the next day and 4 outfit changes later, his little body finally got a reprieve.  He never lost his smile or his happy spirit.  Throughout the whole ordeal, he only cried when it first happened.  I don't know how he does it, how he stays so happy in the face of such unspeakably smelly horror, but he does.

We learned a lot from our last Pukepocalypse and it showed in how few towels we lost and how we kept that trash can nearby.  Not that there weren't some rookie mistakes- never get naked without an exit strategy.  You won't always have pants that stretch up to your collar bones lying around.

Even in the other times, the times when you just want to cry, it's so calming to look at this little person who's confused as hell about what's going on, who just keeps smiling because to him it's all just some exciting new adventure.  It's also a new adventure for you, so you just keep smiling too.

There is magic in the peaceful times, the soft glow of a lamp, cuddling your baby to sleep.

But some of the funniest, most unbelievable memories lie in the other times.

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