Alright. *sigh* Not to jinx myself, but I do believe the worst is over (looks around suspiciously for flying puke ala Nickelodeon’s old You Can’t Do That on Television).

  • 10:50am–Gavin and I run to my doctor appointment…I am armed with two large beach towels, 4 grocery bags, sippy cup of water and sippy cup of pedialyte…and carrying a kid who’s about 38 inches tall and 38 lbs. Mind you, I haven’t eaten yet (although my appetite is still low).
  • 11:10am–As we’re walking into the medical building, Gavin says, “I need the toilet” and I shuffle off hurredly for the washroom. First stall–eww! Really, who doesn’t FLUSH anymore? So we go to the handicap stall. He leans over, but doesn’t puke. He then looks at me, “it’s broken. no puke.” (during potty training if he didn’t have to go, he’d tell us “it” was broken, too…unfortunately I always laughed).
  • 11:15am–we sign in at the doctor and go sit. Normally my appointments (sick and otherwise) are 20 minutes, tops…from sign-in to climbing back in the car. Today, however, as I prophesized, we waited 20 minutes before being called back.
  • 11:35am–chat with the nurse, ensure Gavin won’t puke on her cute pink scrubs, and put on a paper vest backwards, which completely horrified Gavin (“Mommy, it’s paper!!! It’s notta shirt!!!”).
  • 11:45am–doc comes in, declares me roseola-free, but that I happen to have a particularly virulent stomach virus that is also manifesting itself in the form of a rash (quite common, according to him), plus he reminds me that I didn’t have a super-high fever, which is the precursor for roseola. He offers me meds to get the nausea under control (“might cause drowsiness”…with two kids by myself? one of which is yakking everywhere? no thanks), and we head on out.
  • 12:15pm–we arrive home, Gavin lays back on the couch while I eat a little lunch.
  • 1:00pm–Gavin climbs off the couch and announces, “tummy!” so off we run to the bathroom. That’s #5.
  • 1:15pm–all cleaned up, put him back on the couch in front of Cars, clean up my lunch, clean up the carpet next to his bed, put fresh sheets/blankets on it. By the time I’m done, he’s dozed off.
  • 2:00pm–I pick up his dead-weight and carry him upstairs…he wakes up enough to protest that he doesn’t need a nap. I tell him he just needs to rest a little while. He gets mad and tells me to go. He’s out less than 5 minutes later.
  • 4:15pm–I wake him up and try to get him to go potty. He adamently refuses. So I go with the bathroom door open, hoping to encourage him. Yep…I walked in and he had dozed off again and wet the bed. Change clothes, change sheets, get in the car with sippy cups, and off we go to get Cooper from school.
  • 5:30pm–we arrive home and I offer a little more pedialyte and saltine crackers. They go down fine. He asks for more. I hold off a little, but slowly put small pieces of saltines in his bowl. He nibbles more and asks for more water and pedialyte. He drinks more, eats more crackers, and eats the dry Cheerios I offer. He also throws a royal tantrum that I will not let him have milk.
  • 7:00pm–he is yelling like normal, making Cooper laugh, and has successfully eaten 4 saltines, 6 ounces each of water and pedialyte, and about a 1/2-cup of dry Cheerios. He’s also belly-laughing at Thomas’ antics and has peed again.
  • As long as he doesn’t develop the fun rash like mine and keeps his food down, I think I will send him to school. Me, on the otherhand, still feel crummy and am afraid to leave the comforts of frequent bland meals and comfy waistbands (read: yoga pants and athletic pants). Plus that pesky rash creeping over the neckline of my shirts isn’t very comforting to the general public.

    Yesterday, prior to the Barf-bath, Gavin flashes Preschool Gang-signs:
    gang-sign gavin
    and Cooper finds it hysterical:
    cooper laughs

    About the Author


    This is a blog where I will share my adventures and mundane tasks as a work-out-of-home-mom. I now have 2 kids and my wonderful husband, so the juggling has gotten a little bit more tricky (man-on-man defense). We also have 2 dogs and 3 cats (we used to have 4) so as you can imagine, our household is pretty busy. Since I never feel like I'm being listened to, I figured I'll just start talking at the general Internet community and see what happens.



    “It’s not a shirt!” cracked me up. I’m so glad things seem to be looking up, I think I would have called my mom and demanded her fly up to rescue me by this point! You’re doing great!

    Burgh Baby

    If you keep impressing me with your amazing sick kid/laundry/potty training skills, I’m making you come up here. I don’t do puke, so having you around might come in handy.

    Madame Queen

    First off, I used to LOOOVVVEE You Can’t Do That on Television. Especially Alistair. He was so cute!

    Glad everybody is feeling better. One benefit to having a sickie as old as Gavin? He can tell you when he’s about to…go. Punkin? Usually after the fact. Glad he’s better!! Hope you start to feel better soon.


    LL, the irony is that MY mom is currently located near YOUR mom! She’s in TX visiting my brother…I won’t get into details about my lack of neighbors or hubby or friends without small children who could help.
    MQ, I had the hots for Alistair, too! *heart flutters*
    BBM, I may consider it in leui of cleaning my own kids’ puke/poop/laundry. Just send gas money and stock your kitchen with mucho vino. And Starbucks Honey Lattes. I certainly don’t get that kind of treatment here.


    I’m glad you’re all on the mend. This stuff seems to be taking out people all over the nation. I’m going to go knock on wood. And plastic. And metal…


    I’m exhausted . . . what a day! Non-stop puke action! How you did it, I’ll never know.

    Hope everyone feels better soon . . . another day like this and you’re headed for the record books.


    I’m impressed! You can really hold it together! I would have crumbled. I REALLY hope that the pukes are done for ya’ll!


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