The Boy Who Cried Sick

Once upon a time there was a little boy.

He loved his mama very much and liked to spend time with her.

It was hard for him to spend too much time with just mama because he had three big brothers who needed a mama too.

But he would go to the library with her and spend the whole day with her and Aunt Alicia and he would have all kinds of fun.

Then he got so big he had to go to school everyday.

But...

If he was sick on a library day, he would get to come to the library and spend the whole day with his mama and Aunt Alicia.

So sometimes he would have a sorta tummy ache.  It would ache - a little - until he got to the library.  Then he would feel better and get to color pictures and make crafts and check out lots of books.  There was a train track to play with and he could hug his mama whenever he wanted.

One morning, he woke up and didn't feel very good.

But he knew what his mama would say.  "You have to go to school." So he didn't tell her he felt sick.

After not even an hour, he said he needed to go home.

But, mama didn't believe him.

The teachers didn't believe him.

His big brother didn't believe him.

But when he puked....

Everyone believed him.

When his mama, who rubbed his back as he puked into the garbage can, took him home to rest he said, "Mama, you know those super moms they show on tv?  You really the super mom."

And she smiled and told him she loved him.

So he cuddled up with the pillow pet mama had known he would need and fell back asleep.

But he learned a valuable lesson this day.

Don't cry sick unless you really are sick.

(Alice and I thought we should read him The Boy Who Cried Wolf, but then after hearing him puke - again - we decided we could wait to read him that story when he was feeling better.  Thanks to wonderful "Aunt" Alicia who sent us home.  You really are a genius, you know. :) )

Pukes NOT Pucks

(a post not for the soft stomached)

Yesterday, I left my house for the first time since Thursday morning.

After dropping the boys off at school

ON TIME

I went home to make Death by Chocolate Scones.

Then I went over the library that I love so dearly.

The library I just happen to work at.

There we ate scones, drank delicious tea from quaint tea cups with saucers and watched this movie.

I so love this movie.

I really love the book as well.

While I have read it before, I never did finish the book in time for this book club.

It was a grand time.

After the movie and chat (we are going to stick with reading woman authors and taking suggestions), we decided to read Little Women next.  My ultimate favorite book.  And Alice hasn't read it and this makes me a wee bit worried about her. ;)

After all that girl time, I picked the boys up from school and we headed to Meijer so they could spend the Christmas money that has been burning holes in their pockets.

S1 loaded up on clearanced hunting gear, and was shocked d things can add up to $45 dollars rather quickly.  He was nearly ready to get in an argument with the cashier, but she was right, not him.

S2 got BB's, air soft bullets, nerf bullets and a target.

S3 got a new game for his Leapster and a case to carry his Leapster.  It was fun to hear him say, "YES! Now I can do subtraction!"

S4 found himself a lego boat he can use in the tub (can it get any better?) and sunglasses.

I was thankful I had some girl time earlier in the day.

But it wasn't long after we were home that S1 informed me he wasn't feeling well, and it wasn't long after that he was puking.

It's been years since he has been this sick, since his Boar hunt, actually.

I don't handle puke well.

Like, at all.

Husband does things like that shockingly well.

I can change diapers, I can clean disgusting things, I can do most anything.

But not puke.

As we heard S1 puking throughout the night, husband (exhausted from hours of plowing and hours of fixing plow trucks) said sleepily, "Go help him."

To which I - and yes, I feel some shame in admitting this - said, "What am I going to do? Just let him puke it out and fall back asleep."

Yah, I'm that kind of a mom.

At around one in the morning, S2 came down and began puking too.

Thankfully, we have two buckets.

This morning I wrote a facebook status bemoaning the fact that I had puking boys.

But I wrote PUCK instead of PUKE.

Which is funny to me, hilarious really, and that could be because of my lack of sleep and the fact that I have been dealing with puke for nearly two weeks on and off.

I could well be sick of pucks.

Because this is a picture of my boys over the weekend.

And people know my boys well enough to know that they COULD have pucks IN the house and how that always seems to turn out.

I'd so much rather have that then this.

My poor sick boys.  I am bleaching and lysoling and hoping that I don't catch this bug at all.

Say a prayer for us.
Say a prayer that I can handle dumping buckets of puke.  I know that sounds awful, but it's really hard on me.  And my two oldest boys are as pale as the snow and lifeless today, I feel so awful for them.

We Have Survived Friday Morning

But just barely....

Last night my hubby asked me to watch the Apprentice with him. We haven't watched the Apprentice in years and years but since Red Green wasn't on he got to channel surfing and found it. We have not seen each other since Sunday night, seriously, we have just crossed paths so I really wanted to cuddle with him and watch it but I had gotten up at 3:30, I'm fighting a cold and I could only listen to the end of it...I could not keep my eyes open. And he teased me. Imagine that....but he is bringing home Papa Murphy's so he is already forgiven and I am thinking he is the sweetest hubby ever - still.

But to sum it all up, I went to bed at eleven.

My alarm went off at 3:30 am to get my little nephew.

I made lunches, breakfast, coffee...and then I took a 45 minute nap so I could get up at 5:30 and realize that I had my days wrong so a wrong blog post posted this morning (sorry, it'll be readable tomorrow)...

...cleaned dog puke (she ate the chicken scraps, apparently dogs can't digest potato peels (sorry if you were eating breakfast) )...

... broke up a fight over who got to sit in the front of the heater vent...

...referred a football game...

...giggled at Fox 17's morning news, they were super funny today...

...tried to console a crying son who didn't do his homework like he was supposed to and was no scared to go to school...

...calmed a son (or attempted to) who is so excited to go get his hunting license today he will hardly be able to concentrate on school work...

...stopped a fight on the way to school during Buck Howdy's happy music...

...got all the kids to their classes...

...remembered to bring S3's lunch box home that he had forgotten at school...

...locked S4 in his locker like he wanted to and did indeed let him back out and then drove home.

To make more coffee.

And eat some of the Pioneer Woman's sugar cookies.

I may actually have to take up exercise thanks to her great recipes.

All that to say.....

I. Am. So. Thankful. It's. Friday.

And now I am going to clean up the Pops cereal Jr has just crushed into the floor and then mixed his oatmeal in them as I wrote this. The price I pay to blog....

Have a great night home with your families tonight, I know we will. And be sure to check back tomorrow, I have a special birthday post for a fellow blogger....

Camping Trip 2, The Puke Night

On Monday afternoon, S4 told me he was tired and needed a nap. So I made him up a bed and he fell asleep on the couch in the camper for a bunch of hours. When he woke up, or as he says, "I didn't sleep, nooooo, I RESTED, Moma.", he was starving hungry so we had lunch and then Mom came and picked us up at the empty campsite to go to the beach with everyone else.

That night, he ate a good dinner, watched a movie and then decided I needed to be cuddled to not be so lonely at night as I finished the dramatic end to a book I was devouring at the moment.

S4 talks in his sleep. A lot.

More than usual, I thought, as I tried to tune him out and gobble up the words.

Until he suddenly bolted up, screamed he had to puke, and quickly climbed over me, holding his hand over his mouth and falling into our little closet bathroom that I am ever so thankful for numerous times in a camping trip...especially this time.

In true form, S4 leaned over the toilet, puked and then held up his hand to show me how I was to rub his back. He needs a "puked rub", you know.

And then, in his infinately wise mind, S4 decided I could not, after all, have him cuddle me as I needed him too because I would indeed catch his germs and be sick like him and I need to be well to give him back rubs. I made him a bed in the tiny hall that then blocks anyone from the bed or the toilet and he promptly fell asleep.

Sorta.

He began talking so much I was afraid he might be delirious. I kept checking his forehead. Half the time he would call my name he would be asleep and talking and the other half he would have woken up and really needed me to answer him so I was answering him every time.

For three hours.

He had a fightful three hours. For three hours he had to yell at his brothers, numerous times.

At one point I was ready to yell at them both to stop it and sit on either end of the couch and think of things they liked about eachother but one was soundly asleep on the couch and the other was sleep talking on the floor. But S4 kept going on and on how much his older brother was bothering him and shutting his arm in the door and hitting him and so on and so forth.

The funniest, even to me who was severly sleep deprived at this time, giggled when he yelled out "Eye-Zick...EYE-Zick (S2). When I wake up, I am telling on you"

He didn't when he woke up, but it was still funny.

Needless to say, I finished my book that night. And the ending made me ponder it long into the night as I listened to S4's various conversations, until he finally fell asleep soundly, slept till eleven in the morning, and awoke happy and well.

I, however, drank coffee all day long.

Feel Loved Now, Daddy?

Recently, the boys had a bought with the flu. When S4 gets the flu, he is really good at running to the toilet on time. However, he gives me a play by play leading up to being ill. I appreciate you all, so I will spare you the gruesome details.

He also requires me to rub his back. Demands it, really. And even with his head over the toilet he holds one hand up giving me directions on how I should form my hand to rub his back, open hand, fisted, knuckles, etc.

The other night, we were done with dinner and the table was being cleared and Hubby asked for a back rub. The boys rushed to his aid, and S4, rubbing ferociously, asked if it felt good.

"Oh, yah," he answered.

"I knowed that, Daddy cuz it's my pukeded rub. When I pukeded, Moma rubs me like this."

Wow, Daddy, feel loved now? Cuz that is true love back rub there!

A Desperate Day Calls for Red High Heels or Painted Toes

Today was beautiful. So very close your eyes and soak in the sun and sigh and thank God for such beauty.

Wonderful day.

And I had mountains of laundry to do. I think we have spoken before on such things. But lets just put it this way, my mother seen my laundry pile and told me to go to the laundry mat...and start purging boys clothes too.

I was working on enjoying the chore of hanging the clothes on the line because the lilacs were hanging in there for me. I could drink in their intoxicating sweet smell.

So, I am working on hanging clothes on the line, cleaning carpets (a long story I won’t bore you with) and S4 informs me he isn’t feeling well. This is unlike him. He laid on the couch and informed how his tummy, his legs, his head, his toes all hurt. And then he napped so I know he wasn’t feeling well. I brought down all his stuffed animals, tucked him in on the couch, filled his favorite Lightning cup with Gatorade, sat by his side when he asked.

Yet, when he was in the bathroom puking he stops and says “See, I told you I had to frow up”. What’s the point with arguing with a four year old.

As he continued to not feel well and run for our one toilet in the house to puke or not to, he would ask me to sit with him and rub his back. He’d hold his hand up and show me a fist, fingers, hand...however it was he felt he needed his back rubbed. It totally cracked me up but I couldn’t laugh at him. That would be mean.

So, I was cleaning puke and doing laundry. You can see how my day was going. And on facebook, two of my friends on opposite sides of the country who do not know each other were also lamenting laundry.

It was in the air, I tell ya.

So what did I do with one of my friends? We looked up red high heels. Because that is what you do when you are folding laundry and feeling unstylish.

I have long dreamed of wearing dark jeans and a cute blouse and RED HEELS. And I found a pair I just love. But they are eighty dollars. I can buy a lot of groceries for eighty dollars. (and they are sold out)

Sigh.

I was thinking of the cute outfit I could have, the Broadway show I could see, the glamour I may one day find as I was rubbing S4’s back and waiting for him to puke when I noticed how badly my unpainted toes look.

So, as soon as dinner was done, I grabbed my nail polish, sat on the stool in the kitchen, and painted my toe nails. My hubby was very late for dinner (never got home till quarter to nine) or he would have joined my boys in thinking I had truly gone crazy.

Girl crazy.

Cuz sometimes, a girl has gotta do what a girl has gotta do. And if a girl has to pass on beautiful shoes, fold camo laundry, clean puke, resteam clean the carpet, well, at least she can do it with her toes a beautiful shade of NYPD Beet. I feel much better now! (as does S4, who after puking got ALL BETTER in time for Hubby to come home....I'm glad he is better but you know how it goes, Hubby is wondering if he really was sick.)

Oh I Wish I Were in Shipsi......

I am not supposed to be writing this today. I am not suppose to be home today. I am suppose to be in Shipsiwana (Shipsi), Indiana drinking fancy spancy coffee and eating just from the oven pretzels as I wander aimlessly through truly delightful girly stores with some of my favorite girls in the world (thankfully they are my mom, my sister and my sister in law...and kids).

Yummy coffee.

Pretzels.

But instead I am home. We were dumped on with five inches of new snow (here at home) and more toward Indiana. In Indiana they had freezing rain. And I am truly stuck home because I have sick kids. As in, puking sick kids.

I don't like puke.

So, as I do mountains of laundry and dream of yummy coffee and warm from the oven pretzels I am singing in my head “Oh I wish I were in Shipsi” to the tune of “oh I wish I were in Dixie”.
Honestly, Dixie wouldn't be too bad either. It's warm in Dixie, isn't it?

I would put in Gone with the Wind but no doubt it would cause my boys to puke some more. It is sooooo a girl movie, I would be told.

Instead I am bemoaning my petty woes to all of you.

So I had better leave you with SOMETHING lighthearted...searching...searching...searching...

Got it.

Last night we took the puke bucket with us, the boys, I drove the suburban and hubby drove the secondary plow truck up to the main plow lot in anticipation for the upcoming snow. We were doing a plow driver shuffle and the truck needed to be there last minute. Really last minute. As in, all the boys were passed out sleeping soundly when we left at about 9:30 at night.

They were still sleeping when we got back home.

Hubby helped me carry in sleeping little boys while I cleaned puke (really, a funny part is coming up) and as everything got settled and everyone was tucked in I snuggled into bed thankful the end of the day.

Except I only assumed everyone was tucked in.

And I merely hoped my day was over.

Suddenly, I hear wailing from S4. I began to beg under my breath “please don't be sick again, please don't be sick...”

No, instead, I ended up laughing.

When S4 was carried into the house I thought it was odd he had gone right up to bed. And maybe he would have. But he had meant to take his coat off at the dining room table. Instead, he had laid down and fell soundly asleep, still in his coat, UNDER the table. He awoke confused. Feeling very slighted.

But all I could do is laugh.

And laugh some more.

And then Hubby, so S4 would know we really did remember we had him and truly did love him, pulled him onto the bed where he snuggled down between the two of us and was asleep in less than three seconds flat.

Precious.

Apparently God knew more than me that I needed just one more moment in my day. Thank goodness.