Make Me Laugh Monday: Sure, I can laugh NOW.

by | Mar 14, 2011 | General | 14 comments

So.

I think I start lots of posts with SO.

I digress…

Lucy got sick Saturday. I was going to write that she fell ill in the “late afternoon”, but hindsight is 20/20… and it was actually early afternoon she started exhibiting “sick-like” symptoms.

Yadda, yadda, yadda… Fast food for dinner.

Lucy ate 1/2 a chicken nugget, and all of her ice cream bar.

I let her eat ice cream without finishing her dinner because she had a bit of a fever, and our plans to get her ears pierced were postponed due to said fever, so, yeah… I let the kid have ice cream without dinner.

Hindsight being what it is, I am glad she ONLY had the ice cream. For WHEN SHE THREW UP AT 1:20 IN THE MORNING (20 minutes after I finally got to bed, and 1.25 hours into her 6th birthday) I only had to clean up chocolatey/ice-creamy vomit. Not chunky chicken nugget-y/french fry-y vomit… from the living room floor and blanket…

Here’s what’s amazing – no vomit on the couch!

Yay me!

But this is about Lucy.

No it isn’t.

THIS?

is about ME.

So. Me. I wear glasses or contacts because I am pretty much legally blind in the near-sighted sense. Presently I just wear contact lenses through to bed time because I lost my glasses.

Because it’s easy for a grown woman to lose one’s glasses when one only keeps them in the bathroom or bedroom, but whatever.

What I am trying to say is, between taking out my contacts and going to bed, I better know I am really ready for bed.  On account of the fact that I CAN’T SEE without my contacts. And my glasses are LOST… but in the glasses defense, they only had one arm anyway.

My husband is such a lucky man.

*focus, Jenny, focus*

But the real problem comes when one’s 8 year old runs into one’s room yelling, “LUCY’S THROWING UP!” and one knows one does not have time to put in one’s contacts BECAUSE ONE’S 5 6 YEAR OLD IS VOMITING DOWNSTAIRS ALL OVER THE LIVING ROOM.

I rushed down, blind, in a tank-top and undies. I prayed the 11 y.o son would sleep through and miss the mess that was his mother.

Alas… the boy sleeps like his father and his childhood remains intact.

I stumbled in… I smelled it before I saw it – ON ACCOUNT OF THE FACT I WAS BLIND… and I blindly, literally… tried to clean vomit off a wailing and still vomiting 6 year old – who was  also shivering, because that 101.5 fever had probably hit 103.

And I also gagged.

And gagged some more, but knew I had no husband to turn to… so I had to be strong.

Blind-strong, but strong.

Somehow we made it to the bathroom and I coaxed Lucy into the shower… but before that I had Olivia get Kevin outside (so HE wouldn’t “clean-up” Lucy’s vomit) AND got a vomity load running in the washer.

*fluffs cape* *stands against strong wind… head high… hands on hip*

Once Lucy was safely crying loudly in the shower because she was FREEZING… I took to washing my hands with LOTS of soap. Not only did I not want VOMIT on my hands I also really, really needed to put in my contacts. There was still work to do. And Mama… though “super” for her heroic efforts thus far… still had not acquired super-vision and needed to get those contacts in.

Somewhere between soaping-up and convincing Lucy the water was indeed not going to kill her… I managed to not fully rinse the 14 ounces of soap off my hands

BEFORE PUTTING IN THE FIRST CONTACT

you must know where this is going

And it happened. I put a soap-covered contact lens in my very tired eye.

That was good times.

So. In short… There I was… hunched over the sink, in my granny panties undies, a tank top, furiously pawing at a soapy eyeball that BURNED… I begged for the burning to stop, and in the end I just had to  DECIDE IT TO STOP because Lucy really didn’t care that I had hand-soap in my eye. She was COLD and had just PUKE UP HER DILLY BAR, PEOPLE.

Remarkably, the rest of the mess was cleaned. Lucy got squared away in my bed… and the nightmares began.

Hers. Not mine. I had just lived through one.

And the begging for water. She was thirsty… “SO FIRSTY MAMA!”

I gave in. 2 tablespoons of water each half hour for the first 2 hours… until I felt confident she would not be puking in my bed.

And Kevin. The dog. He was let back in, but had been so disturbed by the chaos (who can blame him) he started acting like it was time to play outside, and went around to every door of the house and cried. From 3 to 3:45 IN THE MORNING.

Since I was up, I sent a few emails… took out my contacts (my eyes need the rest)… I think it was close to 5 before I was able to really, finally sleep.

When I woke up, I went to put my contacts back in and I noticed:

contact case

So. There I stood. In a haze of, “What happened last night”, but not “drunken stupor haze”, but “I never read this in a parenting book haze”… And I looked at my contact case. I looked at my hands.

Right. Left.

No.

Left. Right.

Crap.

Hitherhencetofore… I broke out a new pair of contacts.

Which is probably for the best, since the others probably still had soap on them.

********

Keep up on the ridiculous, the insightful, the always digressive…

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