Day 8

We've reached Day 8 of the Barf-a-thon and the good news is, we're just about done. That's right. Everyone has barfed as much as they possibly could, and there's simply no one left to infect. I asked Michael to take me on a drive this evening, since I have only left my home twice in the last week and a day. It was lovely. I brought extra barf bags just in case.

That being said, I've found myself feeling grateful. Yes, we've all been miserably disgusting and our house reeks and we're so tired and cranky, but we're all fine. Even at the worst moments, with my poor baby girl just retching her guts out every twenty minutes all night long, Michael hundreds of miles away, I always knew that we'd be fine. The virus would pass, we'd all get better, we'd laugh about it in three weeks.

A few days ago I read an article about the cholera hitting the refugees in Haiti. Without clean water, they can't prevent it, and healthy grown adults die from dehydration before then can even get to a clinic. Children don't have a chance. When those children get sick, I can only imagine the fear that strikes their mother's hearts.

Never once in the last week have I had to fear. I've always known we would be fine, that my children were safe. Yes, I was inconvenienced. Yes, we have been uncomfortable. But I am so grateful that we live in a place and a manner where I never for a moment have had to be afraid.

Nozzle

I posted this on facebook the other day:

My son is stomping around the house, waving a lego object that looks exactly like a gun, and shouting in a growly manly-man voice "This is my special kind of nozzle! A special kind of nozzle! I'm turning my nozzle on! Rrrrr!"

Not in Nauvoo

My posting has been spotty, of late, thanks to the untimely death of my sadly abused laptop. Poor baby had a traumatic life and I am pleased to let it move on to the Happy Computing Grounds. Michael is trying to convince me to let him use it for target practice. I am happy to announce the very recent arrival of Beulah, my new shiny Toshiba Satellite. I found it refurbished from Toshiba for $150 off the regular price. She's got a big ol' hard drive and 3 gigs of ram and boy is she a beaut.

Her arrival night before last was divinely orchestrated (who would have thought that Toshiba refurb is in... Louisville KY? It took less than 24 hours to arrive!) I spent all day Thursday cheerfully baking and packing in anticipation of our Family Vacation to Nauvoo. Michael is shooting a wedding there this weekend, and the family kindly invited the rest of us along to stay in the hotel with them and enjoy the wedding festivities. I don't think I can over-state how excited we are were for our getaway. Michael took an extra day off work so we could go Friday and spend the whole day in Nauvoo just as a family (which has never happened before.)

Thursday afternoon, Jed started kind of whining about how his mouth hurt and he felt sick. Whatever. (He's a bit of the Kid who Cried Wolf. Even a recently discovered discovered freckle can be grounds for near-death wails and calls for a "really big bandaid.") But then later I found out he'd been complaining to Michael, too, and that didn't bode well. When he refused the special dinner of chocolate chip pancakes I'd prepared to fete the start of the family weekend, I started to get concerned. This kid NEVER turns down chocolate chips. A bit later, he threw up. Then more barfing. We put him to bed, hoping he'd sleep it off, but about ten feet before Michael made it to our bed, he heard a strangled cry of panic upstairs... and the rest was messy, stinky, and stretched long into the night.

The next morning, he woke up cheerful and said "I feel GREAT!" We snuggled in bed for a happy hour or so and thought "Hey, maybe we can do this!" So we prayed about it and five minutes later Jed vomited violently and, well, that was our answer. So now Michael's off in Nauvoo and I get to stay home and sanitize the facilities. Boo. Having to unpack everything, after just spending the whole day packing, with no fun in between just adds insult to injury. Good thing I got to down half a batch of chocolate chip carrot muffins to console myself.

That being said, I feel grateful that so far we are 36+ hours in from First Barf, and no one else seems to be coming down with it. Did I mention that the whole house has been severely bleached? Also, yesterday was actually kind of nice for Zoe since she got lots of attention and no brotherly-tormenting as Jed wallowed in 7 hours of Bob the Builder. She stomped around with a cheery grin, getting into everything, happy to own the place for just one day. In addition, I am deeply grateful for the arrival of this computer just before Michael and his laptop left town. Jed needed the healing power of Bob. For one last thing, I also feel grateful that Michael now has time to finish his midterm, which he was pretty much going to have to sacrifice for my vacation. :) Here's hoping for A's, my dear, and maybe we'll finally get that family getaway next year.

Shriek

Zoe really needs to learn how to speak English. She's at that toddler phase where she does not yet speak, so she compensates with "shriek." From the moment she wakes up, it's one loud shout/giggle/shriek-athon until she passes out for nap time.

Last week, she woke up and I thought I heard her shouting something from the basement. At first I thought it was Jed, but no it was definitely her. So then I figured I was just imagining the words. But then she did it again the next morning, and I definitely heard it after the nap. Up the basement stairs my baby girl was shouting:

"Hey, Mom! Hey, MOM! HEY MOM MOM MOM! HEY MOM!"

So charming. Not. What ever happened to "Mama" or something heart-wrenchingly sweet and memorable? What's with the 15 month teenager? So far, this is what we know, in English, from the mind of Zoe.

1) "Wow!" She uses it in perfect context every time.

2) "Mo mo mo mo mo." After many attempts to teach her sign language at the dinner table, and thus preserve the hearing of the rest of the family, she finally learned how to say (not sign) "More," generally repeated unceasingly at approximately 100 decibels until her mouth is stuffed sufficiently full that you can't hear it any more.

3) "Na na!" This is a word-shriek used when we refuse to share our bananas with her because they upset her belly. Not happy.

4) "No no no NO!" She picked this one up last week while we were at the grocery store. Always accompanied by flails of anger and several innocent objects thrown mercilessly to the floor.

To be fair, the "Hey Mom" and "No no no no no no!" were introduced the same day last week, and it was a bit of a blow to my mothering aspirations. She has a mouthful of teeth coming in and much of the day lately she careens around the house purposefully looking for things to be annoyed at, and thus have an excuse to shriek in anger. Fortunately that afternoon we were out working quietly in the yard (and by "quietly," of course, I mean "far enough apart and in the open air so the shrieks were barely noticeable,") and she wandered over to the garden. I heard a gentle little voice behind me utter, "Mama. Mama!" I turned around and there was my darling sweetheart holding a white feather and waving it proudly at me. "Mama!" I ran over and scooped her up and showered her with kisses, thanking her for that small token of the darling, beloved little girl I know she is inside.