**Warning: this post contains material that might gross you out.
Michael had to work during Easter weekend so I decided to drive to my parents' house for a little Easter vacation with the kids. It was filled with lots of family and friend festivities and lots of fun!
...until the night after Easter.
Around 3:00 Morgan woke up and started flopping around in bed. I kept poking her and telling her to go back to sleep. Then she covered her mouth and started dry heaving so I grabbed her and jumped out of bed running towards the bathroom and as soon as I stepped in the door she exploded. It hit the bathroom tile and splashed EVERYWHERE. Then I slid in it. Then she exploded again. I dropped her in front of the toilet where she threw up on the lid, then lifted the lid where she threw up on the seat, then lifted the seat where she threw up all around the toilet. She had a peanut butter sandwich and milk for a late dinner and way too much water so the entire bathroom floor was covered in a watery peanut buttery layer of vomit. I yelled for my mom to come help and she jumped out of bed screaming, which made my dad jump out of bed and grab his shotgun, and Jack wakes up from all the commotion and starts screaming. I strip Morgan down and run a bath, slipping all over the disgusting wet floor with every step I take, and yell for my mom to please bring me something to start cleaning with. She is so disoriented at being awakened in the middle of the night to deal with a puking child and screaming baby. She runs downstairs and returns with a container of baby wipes and a bottle of Woolite. The best part? I didn't have my glasses on so I had no idea what I was attempting to clean with. I started spraying down the floor and opened the wipes...and after pulling out two wipes, the container was empty. So basically I could clean about one tile. My mom finally shows up with an armful of what we refer to as 'hair color towels' so I can really start scrubbing. Poor Morgan is shivering in the bathtub, dry heaving into a cup, watching me slide around and clean the bathroom with Woolite. I step into the tub to wash off my feet, dry her off and send her out of the bathroom, and finally get my glasses...and that's when I realize that I'm cleaning the bathroom with carpet cleaner. I found the bathroom cleaner and started over and Morgan walks down the hallway wearing Wonder Woman underwear and says 'I'm not sick anymore!' and I can hear Jack laughing from his room, so at least the kids were happy. But it was 4am and I was dry heaving from the smell of peanut butter vomit and internally hexing any possible culprit that might have shared their germs with my children over our busy weekend. I made Morgan a little nest of old towels and sheets in the floor (I'm a firm believer that sick children do not belong in bed or on furniture) and rubbed her back until she went to sleep. Then I sent my poor mom back to bed and rocked Jack to sleep. Sometime around 5:30 I finally went to sleep and thank goodness the rest of the night was uneventful, until Jack woke up at 8:00 and I could hear him pooping. I was so tired and all I could think was 'I'm so over cleaning up body functions...'
How is Morgan? Fine. Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled that she's fine so far, but it's so frustrating to go through all of that and not even know what caused it. Was it a virus? Something she ate/drank? The fact that Baby Jesus grew up and died and came back from the dead blew her mind? No idea. But she woke up this morning, grabbed a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos, and ran in circles singing 'bad kitty bad kitty, what you gonna do, what you gonna do when they come for you..'
Soooo....wish me luck tonight....I will have the bathroom cleaner out just in case...
