Scraping and clawing at the dirt
She cultivates life's needs
Fingers nimbly work and are
dirty and moist.
Roots and twigs entangle
Jagged rocks cut and bruise
Black, thick mud fills
the time worn wrinkles of her hands.
She sits exhausted and consumed
The work more than she planned
Sweat beads on her brow
She sits back on her soiled knees.
Her face raises to the sun
Its warmth fills her
Her eyes close in response
the heat pouring over her face and body.
She leans back
arching her neck
She is satisfied.
She feels the coolness of the earth
between her toes and her eyes open
the work is always before her
Her hands dig deep, toiling once again.
Sunday, February 08, 2009
Friday, February 06, 2009
I'm Leaving On a Jet Plane
Ok, so not really. I am not leaving on a "jet plane," but I am leaving in Jay's Suburban for a women's retreat in Myrtle Beach this weekend. I am looking forward to lots of cackling and clucking as the hen party commences.
I remember the first time I had a weekend away after having been a stay at home mom for a couple of years. It was to the Celo Inn for a weekend of scrapbooking with my sister and dear friends Robin, Amy and Amanda. I was the last one to be picked-up because I was "on the way." When the car pulled into the driveway I ran out the door and seriously squealed and screamed. I was that thrilled, overwhelmed and over the moon to have a break from the daily grind. But that was many years ago and now that children are older, I don't seem to want that whole weekend away any more. Just a day or two. I miss them.
And here is one reason why:
This week, Ethan was chosen to have a list of compliments made about him by his class. And, here they are - note the theme:
Ethan is very funny.
Ethan eats everything.
Ethan is very funny and crazy.
Ethan is very crazy and cool.
Ethan is really funny.
Ethan is fun and funny.
Ethan is very funny, talkative, and smart.
Ethan is very funny.
Ethan is super funny.
Ethan is smart
Ethan is a very good friend.
Ethan is very funny.
Ethan is very, very, very funny.
I will save this list so that when he is having a bad day, he can read it and know that in 3rd grade being funny is probably one of the best character traits as defined by his peers.
I know I have written a bit about my ridiculous infatuation with Rock Band drumming. But, part of that craziness is that I play it with Ethan. It is "our thing." Our band, Weesnog, was aptly picked from a Sponge Bob reference. When we are on, baby, we rock. We have these discussions about the level of difficulty, our ability to play, even pains we incur from playing our instruments. And when we get that last power play and in unison, bang that last note...it is all high fives, smiles and "Yeahs!"
Older children are fun. And as the above referenced song continues, "Oh babe, I hate to go."
I remember the first time I had a weekend away after having been a stay at home mom for a couple of years. It was to the Celo Inn for a weekend of scrapbooking with my sister and dear friends Robin, Amy and Amanda. I was the last one to be picked-up because I was "on the way." When the car pulled into the driveway I ran out the door and seriously squealed and screamed. I was that thrilled, overwhelmed and over the moon to have a break from the daily grind. But that was many years ago and now that children are older, I don't seem to want that whole weekend away any more. Just a day or two. I miss them.
And here is one reason why:
This week, Ethan was chosen to have a list of compliments made about him by his class. And, here they are - note the theme:
Ethan is very funny.
Ethan eats everything.
Ethan is very funny and crazy.
Ethan is very crazy and cool.
Ethan is really funny.
Ethan is fun and funny.
Ethan is very funny, talkative, and smart.
Ethan is very funny.
Ethan is super funny.
Ethan is smart
Ethan is a very good friend.
Ethan is very funny.
Ethan is very, very, very funny.
I will save this list so that when he is having a bad day, he can read it and know that in 3rd grade being funny is probably one of the best character traits as defined by his peers.
I know I have written a bit about my ridiculous infatuation with Rock Band drumming. But, part of that craziness is that I play it with Ethan. It is "our thing." Our band, Weesnog, was aptly picked from a Sponge Bob reference. When we are on, baby, we rock. We have these discussions about the level of difficulty, our ability to play, even pains we incur from playing our instruments. And when we get that last power play and in unison, bang that last note...it is all high fives, smiles and "Yeahs!"
Older children are fun. And as the above referenced song continues, "Oh babe, I hate to go."
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Funny
Ethan came to me this afternoon and asked, "Hey Mom, is this butter? "Cause it says it's not butter." I turned to look at what he was holding. It was the container of "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter" butter. What do you say to that one?
A 7 year-old Teenager
Could it be? Dare I say? Should I put a stop to this NOW?
Sadie came bursting through the front door this afternoon announcing that she had to call her friend, M, because M has something she,"just HAD to tell her." With that declaration, she threw open her monogrammed messenger bag, grabbed a piece of paper contained within and thrust it to me. I couldn't make out what was on the paper and said, "What is this?" Sadie replied, "M's phone number," and bounded away to get the phone.
I just realized, seriously just realized, that she got the phone, turned it on and dialed her friend without any assistance from me. How worried should I be? Well, it is a good thing, right? I mean, if there is some sort of 911 emergency, right?
Before she made her phone call she started to go up the stairs to make her call, "in her room." At least I had the sense to stop her and stated emphatically that she was not old enough to have "private" phone calls. Anything she needed to say, she could say right here, with me, on the sofa.
As I type, listening to this phone call, I am giggling. It is ALL about dogs.
"I was at WalMart and they had the cutest dog stickers."
"Oh, M, they have these scented chew bones."
"She [Dixie, our puppy] is sitting here with me."
"That's nice."
"Did you know what I can hear right now? Theodore(the squirrel)in his cage."
Editor's note: So, not everything is about dogs, but pets in general.
"How does it work? How does that vacuum suck everything up?"
Editor's note: Ok, that one did me in - is my 7 year-old really talking about vacuums???? Funny.
She just hung up the phone and said, "Well, that was a nice phone conversation."
She galloped away to the kitchen for a snack.
Looks like a new room has just been added to the ol' parenting domain. Can someone help this mom with some rules of phone etiquette and management that I might employ with my children? And, is she going to hate me later in life that I have documented this first-time phone call?
Sadie came bursting through the front door this afternoon announcing that she had to call her friend, M, because M has something she,"just HAD to tell her." With that declaration, she threw open her monogrammed messenger bag, grabbed a piece of paper contained within and thrust it to me. I couldn't make out what was on the paper and said, "What is this?" Sadie replied, "M's phone number," and bounded away to get the phone.
I just realized, seriously just realized, that she got the phone, turned it on and dialed her friend without any assistance from me. How worried should I be? Well, it is a good thing, right? I mean, if there is some sort of 911 emergency, right?
Before she made her phone call she started to go up the stairs to make her call, "in her room." At least I had the sense to stop her and stated emphatically that she was not old enough to have "private" phone calls. Anything she needed to say, she could say right here, with me, on the sofa.
As I type, listening to this phone call, I am giggling. It is ALL about dogs.
"I was at WalMart and they had the cutest dog stickers."
"Oh, M, they have these scented chew bones."
"She [Dixie, our puppy] is sitting here with me."
"That's nice."
"Did you know what I can hear right now? Theodore(the squirrel)in his cage."
Editor's note: So, not everything is about dogs, but pets in general.
"How does it work? How does that vacuum suck everything up?"
Editor's note: Ok, that one did me in - is my 7 year-old really talking about vacuums???? Funny.
She just hung up the phone and said, "Well, that was a nice phone conversation."
She galloped away to the kitchen for a snack.
Looks like a new room has just been added to the ol' parenting domain. Can someone help this mom with some rules of phone etiquette and management that I might employ with my children? And, is she going to hate me later in life that I have documented this first-time phone call?
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
The Likelihood of Survival
The following statement was from a man whose tandem parachuting partner died from a heart attack during mid-jump. He was able to remain calm because as he said:
"The likelihood of you surviving, you know, decreases absolutely amazingly by factors exponentially if you panic," he said.
Hmmmm. It took me a few years of my life to realize that I have a higher than normal ability to panic. I have no, nada, zero, zilcho useful skills when it comes to emergency situations. Heck, might as well just put normal, every day situations in that category as well. Though I may appear to have it all together, underneath it all, my mind is just churning with the absence of rational thinking. I make the following argument, though I doubt many who know me really well will wonder why I even make the effort. They already know the truth.
Case #1:
Car collision with lake on Willie Bodenheimer Road 1988
The reality is that I was a very inexperienced driver behind the wheel of a 1979 black Ford pick-up truck with no power anything and only an AM radio to keep me company. It was a Goliath of a machine and I had to sit on two pillows in order to maneuver the beast. It was a cold March morning and I had my highly valued term paper on the uni-seat beside me. Willie B. Road was one that I drove on my way to and from school and was not a "paved" road, but a rural road comprised of tar and loose gravel. As I turned onto the road, my time-wasted, yet, coveted paper went flying into the floorboard. Mistake #1 - I reached down into the floor board to retrieve it, thus taking my eyes off the road. As I peered through (not over) the steering wheel I realized that I was off the ride-hand side of the road. I could hear the driver's instructor's voice in my head. "If you run off the side of the road...DO NOT PANIC. Slowly bring it back onto the road." Mistake #2 - The use of the phrase "Don't panic" only increases panic. I did try to bring it back onto the road, but instead of releasing the gas or even better, braking, I pressed the pedal harder in my attempts to "not panic." The truck began to fishtail. And, off to my left I saw it - the pond, complete with geese. I knew at that moment, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was going in it with my truck. So, I just...let...it... happen. The water was about hip deep as I exited the truck. As I made my way (paper in hand, by the way),to the shore, I took one little glance back and saw the pillows floating away. Imagine calling your dad on that one.
Case #2:
Fire in a large convention building in the Netherlands 1994
I was speaking to a group of Dutch girls to recruit them to be au pairs in the U.S. It was an informational meeting and while speaking, a lady came into our room, following by a medium amount of smoke. She calmly said, "There is a fire outside our room, we need to exit the building." On the outside, I remained calm. I didn't say anything. I didn't start screaming or wailing my arms around. We were asked to get our things and follow the fire exit signs. Which I promptly did. Once outside the building, I found that I had a pocketbook, which not my own and...a stapler. Yes, I was the hero that day as I saved the stapler from certain death. Or, did I think could use the stapler to stamp out the fire? Who knows? What I do know is that I did NOT have my complete faculties about me and just needed something in both hands in order to leave that room.
Case #3:
Driving in mountains in Washington State vacation trip 1999
Jay and I took a one year anniversary trip to Seattle to visit friends. While there, we decided to camp one night in some mountain range. Was it Mt. Olympus - I think, but my memory of that is fuzzy. What I do remember, quite clearly is that morning Jay was feeling flu-like and decided to sleep in the backseat during the drive leaving me alone to navigate. I didn't want to miss the opportunity to make this scenic drive and catch a glimpse of Canada (I know, why?) from a towering mountain top. As I drove up the mountain, my heart began to beat faster and faster. Those were really steep drop-offs (even though I was on the inside of the road). There weren't a lot of barriers to prevent one from driving off the side. And I could see myself driving right...off...the...side of the mountain. I started to emit little panicky noises. I checked the speedometer - I had slowed to a snail pace of 10 mph and couldn't muster the strength to increase my speed, despite the enormous amount of traffic behind me. The last curve was a doozy as you couldn't see any road ahead just this curve into nowhere. As I rounded the corner I saw it...the parking lot. I parked, facing another drop-off, and seriously thought the car was continuing to roll even though the emergency brake was on. I exited the car and laid down flat onto the pavement for what seemed like hours until Jay popped his head up and asked me what I was doing. He had missed the entire episode. Needless to say, he drove us down the mountain while I laid down in the back.
Case #4:
Birth of second child 2001
Having been through this already once, you would think that I might have worked out all of the panic possibilities. Alas, I had not. Child #2 was brought into this world by induction. In the delivery room there were two nurses getting me prepped and ready. While I was answering questions to the one nurse (are you allergic to anything, etc.), another nurse was preparing the iv. Now, I have had tons of ivs. Never an issue. But, for some reason this particular morning, I was fixated. I thought she was going to stick me before I had a chance to "prepare." I thought she wouldn't even let me know what she was going to do and just go for the jab. But, for some reason I didn't think to ask the interviewing nurse to pause, so I could make my concerns known. Instead, my body went into a tailspin. I began to get dizzy, my eyesight blurry, my head light. All I could mutter was...I don't feel so good. They took my bp and it was something like 56 over 40! No wonder! My brain was being deprived of oxygen all because I couldn't say, "wait."
Obviously, I do not have a "high likelihood of survival." I rest my case.
"The likelihood of you surviving, you know, decreases absolutely amazingly by factors exponentially if you panic," he said.
Hmmmm. It took me a few years of my life to realize that I have a higher than normal ability to panic. I have no, nada, zero, zilcho useful skills when it comes to emergency situations. Heck, might as well just put normal, every day situations in that category as well. Though I may appear to have it all together, underneath it all, my mind is just churning with the absence of rational thinking. I make the following argument, though I doubt many who know me really well will wonder why I even make the effort. They already know the truth.
Case #1:
Car collision with lake on Willie Bodenheimer Road 1988
The reality is that I was a very inexperienced driver behind the wheel of a 1979 black Ford pick-up truck with no power anything and only an AM radio to keep me company. It was a Goliath of a machine and I had to sit on two pillows in order to maneuver the beast. It was a cold March morning and I had my highly valued term paper on the uni-seat beside me. Willie B. Road was one that I drove on my way to and from school and was not a "paved" road, but a rural road comprised of tar and loose gravel. As I turned onto the road, my time-wasted, yet, coveted paper went flying into the floorboard. Mistake #1 - I reached down into the floor board to retrieve it, thus taking my eyes off the road. As I peered through (not over) the steering wheel I realized that I was off the ride-hand side of the road. I could hear the driver's instructor's voice in my head. "If you run off the side of the road...DO NOT PANIC. Slowly bring it back onto the road." Mistake #2 - The use of the phrase "Don't panic" only increases panic. I did try to bring it back onto the road, but instead of releasing the gas or even better, braking, I pressed the pedal harder in my attempts to "not panic." The truck began to fishtail. And, off to my left I saw it - the pond, complete with geese. I knew at that moment, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was going in it with my truck. So, I just...let...it... happen. The water was about hip deep as I exited the truck. As I made my way (paper in hand, by the way),to the shore, I took one little glance back and saw the pillows floating away. Imagine calling your dad on that one.
Case #2:
Fire in a large convention building in the Netherlands 1994
I was speaking to a group of Dutch girls to recruit them to be au pairs in the U.S. It was an informational meeting and while speaking, a lady came into our room, following by a medium amount of smoke. She calmly said, "There is a fire outside our room, we need to exit the building." On the outside, I remained calm. I didn't say anything. I didn't start screaming or wailing my arms around. We were asked to get our things and follow the fire exit signs. Which I promptly did. Once outside the building, I found that I had a pocketbook, which not my own and...a stapler. Yes, I was the hero that day as I saved the stapler from certain death. Or, did I think could use the stapler to stamp out the fire? Who knows? What I do know is that I did NOT have my complete faculties about me and just needed something in both hands in order to leave that room.
Case #3:
Driving in mountains in Washington State vacation trip 1999
Jay and I took a one year anniversary trip to Seattle to visit friends. While there, we decided to camp one night in some mountain range. Was it Mt. Olympus - I think, but my memory of that is fuzzy. What I do remember, quite clearly is that morning Jay was feeling flu-like and decided to sleep in the backseat during the drive leaving me alone to navigate. I didn't want to miss the opportunity to make this scenic drive and catch a glimpse of Canada (I know, why?) from a towering mountain top. As I drove up the mountain, my heart began to beat faster and faster. Those were really steep drop-offs (even though I was on the inside of the road). There weren't a lot of barriers to prevent one from driving off the side. And I could see myself driving right...off...the...side of the mountain. I started to emit little panicky noises. I checked the speedometer - I had slowed to a snail pace of 10 mph and couldn't muster the strength to increase my speed, despite the enormous amount of traffic behind me. The last curve was a doozy as you couldn't see any road ahead just this curve into nowhere. As I rounded the corner I saw it...the parking lot. I parked, facing another drop-off, and seriously thought the car was continuing to roll even though the emergency brake was on. I exited the car and laid down flat onto the pavement for what seemed like hours until Jay popped his head up and asked me what I was doing. He had missed the entire episode. Needless to say, he drove us down the mountain while I laid down in the back.
Case #4:
Birth of second child 2001
Having been through this already once, you would think that I might have worked out all of the panic possibilities. Alas, I had not. Child #2 was brought into this world by induction. In the delivery room there were two nurses getting me prepped and ready. While I was answering questions to the one nurse (are you allergic to anything, etc.), another nurse was preparing the iv. Now, I have had tons of ivs. Never an issue. But, for some reason this particular morning, I was fixated. I thought she was going to stick me before I had a chance to "prepare." I thought she wouldn't even let me know what she was going to do and just go for the jab. But, for some reason I didn't think to ask the interviewing nurse to pause, so I could make my concerns known. Instead, my body went into a tailspin. I began to get dizzy, my eyesight blurry, my head light. All I could mutter was...I don't feel so good. They took my bp and it was something like 56 over 40! No wonder! My brain was being deprived of oxygen all because I couldn't say, "wait."
Obviously, I do not have a "high likelihood of survival." I rest my case.
Sunday, February 01, 2009
Missing
There just seemed to be something missing today. In fact, it has been building steadily for a while now. A void, depression, near despair. And, then, it hit me, like it always does. Out of nowhere and painful. She is missing. A piece of me. Gone.
I needed her today. And, she is not here. I cannot hear her or touch her. I am angry about it. More than that. I am full of vile and fury. Life is not what is was supposed to be I want her back. I want her love. I want her humor and her understanding. I want her hands that comforted me. I want her laughter. I want that person that knows me better than anyone else to be here for me. I want my support, my cheerleader. I want my sister.
The tears on my face are hot and stinging. I haven't sobbed and wailed for her with such intensity in a while. Sure, little tears, but not the soul rattling level of this evening. And, I don't think I am finished. The anger has been bubbling on the surface for a while now and I was afraid to unleash it. And, now here it is. Out. Out in all of its rawness and ugliness and darkness. Exposed to the world.
The bitter winds of winter remind me of the time of her death - February. The day just around the corner. After nearly 2 years, I thought I had escaped the inevitable anger stage of grief. Perhaps, I wouldn't have to deal with that. I was hopeful. But here I am, collapsing on the floor like the day she died, unable to figure out how to navigate this world without her.
For two years, I have kept vigil. Searching for what, who, anything to fill her spot. Not a replacement, but just something to soften and lessen the hole. My search has been futile. There is nothing. Nothing but more time.
I needed her today. And, she is not here. I cannot hear her or touch her. I am angry about it. More than that. I am full of vile and fury. Life is not what is was supposed to be I want her back. I want her love. I want her humor and her understanding. I want her hands that comforted me. I want her laughter. I want that person that knows me better than anyone else to be here for me. I want my support, my cheerleader. I want my sister.
The tears on my face are hot and stinging. I haven't sobbed and wailed for her with such intensity in a while. Sure, little tears, but not the soul rattling level of this evening. And, I don't think I am finished. The anger has been bubbling on the surface for a while now and I was afraid to unleash it. And, now here it is. Out. Out in all of its rawness and ugliness and darkness. Exposed to the world.
The bitter winds of winter remind me of the time of her death - February. The day just around the corner. After nearly 2 years, I thought I had escaped the inevitable anger stage of grief. Perhaps, I wouldn't have to deal with that. I was hopeful. But here I am, collapsing on the floor like the day she died, unable to figure out how to navigate this world without her.
For two years, I have kept vigil. Searching for what, who, anything to fill her spot. Not a replacement, but just something to soften and lessen the hole. My search has been futile. There is nothing. Nothing but more time.
How I Roll - Take 2
Well, How funny. Before you read this post, you MUST go read the one right under it, "That's Just How I Roll." Ok, so do it. Yes, right now, or this post can not be fully appreciated. Did you read it? Ok, proceed.
The minute I hit "publish post" on my entry for today which, incidentally, ended up being at 9:30 tonight, Lily came into my room. As she approached the bed she said, "I am scared to go to bed." She proceeded to climb into my bed and snuggled up as close to me as possible. Ethan also scampered into the room and was requesting something ridiculous like to start playing Rock Band or to get a snack way past his bed time. As I turned to looked at him to find out just what planet he thought he live on, Lily began to cough.
You know the one. The one that you know is a little different than something originating from the lungs. And, before you can put your finger on exactly what is happening, the cough turns into a gag and subsequent pukefest.
It was the worst kind. It went on and on and on. The arm used to cradle her was now cradling the pool of stomach contents and bile. I could not, for the life of me, figure out how to get the two of us off the bed without the massive amount of "stuff" being strewn across our bed and sheets, penetrating deeper into our hair, further staining our clothing, littering the floor and ultimately being forced down the shower drain.
Ethan stood there in shock, not moving an inch. Sadie came running in and turned on this freakish little Nurse Nellie routine, shouting, "I'll got get the....," and she trailed away, not really knowing what to actually get for us. Jay, who had already fallen asleep beside me, continued to sleep through the entire ordeal. And, all I could think about was protecting my precious laptop from an encounter with yuck.
I roused Jay from his sleep with a loud, "SAVE THE LAPTOP!" Meanwhile, Ethan remained fixed, occasionally sticking his head out to examine what was covering us. He began to emit his own gagging noises and I banished him from the room. Sadie came running back into the room, throwing paper towels at us along with the family "puke pot." At that point, I figured I should just make a run for the shower holding Lily in my arms, sticking together with the putrid ejection.
Sadie helped Jay, who had finally gotten out of bed, collect the soiled clothes, the bed linens and towels and start the laundry. She even asked him if she needed to unload the dishwasher! Something about that makes me giggle. But, she wanted to do everything she could think of the help. She was ALL about action! Precious.
It reminded me of the time that Lily got into Jay's heart medication when we were trailer camping at the Oak Hollow Campground while we rented our nice, cozy house to market visitors and ended up staying 3 days at Brenner's Children's' Hospital (future potential post). During the initial discovery, Sadie transformed into the "emergency director." She really tapped into this high-level leadership mode. While I was in panic mode, trying to track down Jay, Sadie shouted orders to everyone to get their shoes on and handed me MY purse and said let's get in the car!
Back to my night...Ethan poked his head in every once in a while to check for more contents, discuss the nastiness of it all and crack a couple of jokes - what is it about an 8 year old and vomit? In the shower, Lily cried little tears and declared it was the hot dog that Daddy made her eat.
Once clean, laundry begun, sheets changed, Jay promptly went back to sleep, Lily too. I sit wedged with her and the "vomit bucket" as I type. Sadie and Ethan decided to sleep in the living room on the "new rug." Again, I am at a loss as to why anyone would want to sleep on the floor rather than a bed, but whatever. For some reason the new rug is a draw. I just tucked them and Dixie in and gave them a kiss. As I bent down to Ethan, he thought he would be cute and pretend-gag right in my face. Nice. Sadie wanted to read about dogs and Dixie nipped at my heel.
I sit here, still smelling some tiny bit of wretchedness lingering somewhere, missed. I think about what I wrote in "That's Just How I Roll". Had my plans for this evening remained unchanged, I could have missed out being the target of projectile regurgitation. And, I would have missed these little snippets into my children's personalities, a chance to comfort my littlest one and remember that my purpose is right here, rolling with them.
The minute I hit "publish post" on my entry for today which, incidentally, ended up being at 9:30 tonight, Lily came into my room. As she approached the bed she said, "I am scared to go to bed." She proceeded to climb into my bed and snuggled up as close to me as possible. Ethan also scampered into the room and was requesting something ridiculous like to start playing Rock Band or to get a snack way past his bed time. As I turned to looked at him to find out just what planet he thought he live on, Lily began to cough.
You know the one. The one that you know is a little different than something originating from the lungs. And, before you can put your finger on exactly what is happening, the cough turns into a gag and subsequent pukefest.
It was the worst kind. It went on and on and on. The arm used to cradle her was now cradling the pool of stomach contents and bile. I could not, for the life of me, figure out how to get the two of us off the bed without the massive amount of "stuff" being strewn across our bed and sheets, penetrating deeper into our hair, further staining our clothing, littering the floor and ultimately being forced down the shower drain.
Ethan stood there in shock, not moving an inch. Sadie came running in and turned on this freakish little Nurse Nellie routine, shouting, "I'll got get the....," and she trailed away, not really knowing what to actually get for us. Jay, who had already fallen asleep beside me, continued to sleep through the entire ordeal. And, all I could think about was protecting my precious laptop from an encounter with yuck.
I roused Jay from his sleep with a loud, "SAVE THE LAPTOP!" Meanwhile, Ethan remained fixed, occasionally sticking his head out to examine what was covering us. He began to emit his own gagging noises and I banished him from the room. Sadie came running back into the room, throwing paper towels at us along with the family "puke pot." At that point, I figured I should just make a run for the shower holding Lily in my arms, sticking together with the putrid ejection.
Sadie helped Jay, who had finally gotten out of bed, collect the soiled clothes, the bed linens and towels and start the laundry. She even asked him if she needed to unload the dishwasher! Something about that makes me giggle. But, she wanted to do everything she could think of the help. She was ALL about action! Precious.
It reminded me of the time that Lily got into Jay's heart medication when we were trailer camping at the Oak Hollow Campground while we rented our nice, cozy house to market visitors and ended up staying 3 days at Brenner's Children's' Hospital (future potential post). During the initial discovery, Sadie transformed into the "emergency director." She really tapped into this high-level leadership mode. While I was in panic mode, trying to track down Jay, Sadie shouted orders to everyone to get their shoes on and handed me MY purse and said let's get in the car!
Back to my night...Ethan poked his head in every once in a while to check for more contents, discuss the nastiness of it all and crack a couple of jokes - what is it about an 8 year old and vomit? In the shower, Lily cried little tears and declared it was the hot dog that Daddy made her eat.
Once clean, laundry begun, sheets changed, Jay promptly went back to sleep, Lily too. I sit wedged with her and the "vomit bucket" as I type. Sadie and Ethan decided to sleep in the living room on the "new rug." Again, I am at a loss as to why anyone would want to sleep on the floor rather than a bed, but whatever. For some reason the new rug is a draw. I just tucked them and Dixie in and gave them a kiss. As I bent down to Ethan, he thought he would be cute and pretend-gag right in my face. Nice. Sadie wanted to read about dogs and Dixie nipped at my heel.
I sit here, still smelling some tiny bit of wretchedness lingering somewhere, missed. I think about what I wrote in "That's Just How I Roll". Had my plans for this evening remained unchanged, I could have missed out being the target of projectile regurgitation. And, I would have missed these little snippets into my children's personalities, a chance to comfort my littlest one and remember that my purpose is right here, rolling with them.
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