Standing in the kitchen, Gwennie has no diaper on because she is a toddler and nothing is more fun than being naked when you are nearly twenty months old. She is standing on the step stool drawing with a red crayon while I am trying to figure out a menu for the week. Suddenly she steps down. 'Poo!" She exclaims. I tell Will, who is standing close by that she has pooped on the stool, so he should NOT look. But he does anyway, he feels compelled to check out the poop. Don't we all? Seriously tell me that you DO NOT look in the toilet when you get done, and I will think you a liar. We all check out the poop.
As I am cleaning it up, Gwennie gags. Does she have a super strong gag reflex? Well, yes. But this time it seems to be a little more. It is not extremely noxious smelling poop. She usually gags because she has accidentally shoved her fingers in her throat. The poop gets taken care of. We all move on, and I make dinner.
Fast forward two hours later, it is nearly eight pm now. Caroline (Will's best friend, Rock's daughter) points to the floor, and says Gwennie "spilled." I get down and check it out, yup, puke. I smell Gwennie to see if it was her, (oh the fun of being mama) and she is quite stinky like vomit. I clean it up, and proceed on with my night of being a hairdresser. It was time for Will's high and tight. He takes Gwennie in the shower to rinse off after his hair cut, so she won't smell like puke when we go to bed.
If I had only known what the night had in store for me...
Zoom ahead to about three am. Sleeping peacefully, dreaming about nice things, interrupted by a faint "mommy?" I look up, groggy, out of it.
"Mommy?" ( a little louder this time)
"I puked" Wide awake now.
"In your bathroom." Sigh of relief, its not all over her bed and not on the carpet.
"Ok honey, let me get your pillow" I set up the sick bed on my floor. It is a crib mattress that I keep under my bed for just this type of situation. After setting up her bed, I walk into the bathroom, step in the pile of vomit, curse a little, and clean it up.
I lay back down in bed and almost doze back off, but Rhayn starts up with her puke fest, which ends up lasting until the alarms goes off at five thirty. I stopped actually getting out of bed about the second time she gagged. I gave her a trash bin, because it was more of a gagging, burping, dry heave and less of an actual puke.
Today is "Super Fun Water Day" at her school. There will be slip and slides, pools, sprinklers, and all other manners of fun, but no Rhayn. She is still sleeping and it seems that the puking has stopped finally, but she is sick.
Yesterday was my first day as day care provider for Caroline (aforementioned 3 year old daughter of Will's best buddy, did I mention he has been living with us, too?) Well it was not too bad, she listens (to me) really well. Aside from her daddy freak outs (bad situation... divorcing, crazy mama, daddy's girl) she is really good. She refuses to go potty, at least she says so. As I was writing this, I heard her walk into the bathroom, pull down her pull-up and pee on the toilet. I gave her a gummy bear, and can not wait to tell her daddy that she went pee on the potty. She did just turn three a month ago, so she isn't abnormally old to be in pull-ups. In her situation, it is even more "normal" I am almost certain that if she stays with us, she will be out of pull ups and better behaved within a few weeks (if not days!)
I was really stressing about watching her. She throws temper tantrums all of the time for her daddy, but she only tried it twice with me, actually when I would tell her "No" She walked into the other room, crying "I want my daddy." That was the extent of it. My girls love her, Gwennie follows her around, and Rhayn is always saying "Caroline, come play with me." This is supposed to be temporary, her staying here, but we'll see what happens.