The Grossest

Is grossest a word?  My spellcheck seems to think so, so I'm just going to run with it.  Ahhh.   Where have I been?  That is a great question.  It can only be answered with living in the grossest six weeks of my life.

Vomit, people.  That is what I speak of.  Vomit and diarrhea to the max.  Not me, but four kids.  It all started Friday October 5, when I felt queasy and Rob and I had to come home early from a date. I threw up a couple of times, and within 24 hours was feeling much better.  No biggie, I assumed.  So when Rob started feeling nauseous a few days later we figured that he was going through the same 24 hour bug.  His, unfortunately lasted the next four days.

The difference between sick kids and sick adults is the fact that I trust mine and Rob's ability to make it to the bathroom in time to throw up. My kids?  Not so much....for good reason.

While Rob was out working one night we grabbed some Wendy's for dinner.  We eat at Wendy's maybe once a year so it was a real treat for all the kids to get frosties with their dinner.  The kids cheered and giggled as they shoved down that chocolatey goodness only minutes before bedtime.

After getting the kids into bed I started cleaning up the day's mess when I heard Maddie yell, "Uh, Mom?  I think Jude just threw up!"  Funny, why would Maddie be telling me that Jude puked?  I snuck into the room and was knocked out by the smell.  Jude, however, had nothing to say.  I remember stepping in vomit as I walked towards his bed and climbed the wet ladder to his bunk bed.  SO GROSS.  Yet, there was Jude, completely asleep.  The kid had projectile vomited while lying on his back sending it all over his bed, his clothes, his face and the floor below.  Apparently it had only woken him enough to roll around in the puke and fall back asleep.  When I woke him up he panicked and started spitting like a mad man.  I dragged him into the shower still half asleep and washed both him and all the contents of his bed in the same shower.  Trying to get throw up out of ears is really a tough thing.

He woke the next morning with diarrhea.  He then stopped throwing up for four days, then started again.  This pattern happened with every single person in my family.  They would stop throwing up just long enough to think they are finally better, only to then throw up again in the middle of the night...unexpectedly.  I was under, "Will they throw up again tonight?" stress for six solid weeks.  All of this on top of the fact that three out of four kids had diarrhea for the entirety of those six weeks.

THE GROSSEST.

Jude missed eight days of school, while Maddie only missed five.  Ella just sat at home for weeks with a bowl by her side.  I don't think I will ever take the words, "My tummy hurts" lightly again.

But, it appears as though the grossest six weeks of my life have finally come to an end, so I hereby announce my return to the blogging world.  I return a much more cautious, prepared and sanitized woman than I was six weeks ago.  Bring it.