I had plans today, plans about all the stuff I was going to get done at work, plans about the places I was going to run at lunch, plans for the stacks of laundry in my bedroom. That was at 6:45 a.m. At 7:30 am while I was putting on my 'gonna get stuff done today' eyeliner, the phone rang. You know it is never a good thing when the phone rings at 7:30 a.m.
Elyas, his dad informed me, had been throwing up since 5 a.m., "So, what should I do, because I don't think I have anything I can give him..." These are the moments I'm really glad their father doesn't live in the same house anymore because the me I am today would be thunking him on the forehead rather than rolling my eyes behind his back like I did when we were married. So anyway, I had a retching, clinging, unhappy little person attached to my body by 8:05 and I'd sent my regrets to my day and my boss.
We watched a plethora of shows where young children are entirely too excited about backpacks and cameras, we played some educational programs on the computer, and we snuggled. What we didn't do was eat. I tried, but he refused everything. Finally frustrated I said "Honey, what would you eat for Mommy?" I'm such an idiot, I mean really, who does that?
Of course he wanted ice cream and I didn't have any. And I did have to get to the bank today, which long story short, is how I ended up cleaning, well, you know...yuck with the slightest scent of McDonald's chocolate shake tossed in, out of the back seat of my SUV. And while I did get a good amount of laundry done today, um, the pile still sits in my bedroom.
Some days putting on eyeliner is just a waste, you know?
8 comments:
Ah, the plans. That's what killed your day, not the eyeliner. Certainly not the eyeliner.
Hope your baby boy is feeling better soon. Hope Dora doesn't take over your every waking moment. She's evil that way.
At least you didnt get puked ON like I did, twice, the other night. comforting a child who is covered in puke and feeling nasty at 1 am, while you are covered in puke and wanting to puke yourself is the hardest thing I swear
You would think, huh? I mean, I've been a mommy for awhile now, and I've done that very thing. But there are these weird little pockets in the seats around the seatbelts that were like little pools of nastiness. I literally had to scoop them out. Shudder.
Oh my gish, we really are soul sisters separated by pockets of puke in different states.
My van... dude, it may not be recoverable.
pockets of puke in different states... i am so sorry to report that i'm laughing at that cuz i'll probably be struck be puke lightning next
Snort! I had this image of John Travolta in a white jump suit (spattered, of course) singing "Go Puke Lightening you're tearin' up the quarter mile..."
Aaaaaa, not the new Vue! That new car smell didn't last too long, huh?!
Hey, at least he puked on the seat and not the ceiling...that's a REAL mess to clean up.
Oh, yes...it's possible.
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