The Art of Puking

Call it what you want: vomiting, throwing up, puking, barfing, upchucking, regurgitating - but I'm going to call it disgusting and something that just took 2 weeks of my life!

The motherly instinct in women tells us to comfort our sick child, hold their hair back while they heave over the toilet, lay with them and rub them even if the reek of nastiness, and to tell them that it's okay if they accidentally miss the toilet. But that last thing there, that was hard to do.

One of my beautiful daughters, who shall remain nameless, found the art in throwing up in every possible place: carpet, couch, bed, etc. It didn't matter that there were towels and buckets surrounding her. She was able to go around those and soil the uncovered surfaces. She was really quite amazing at it. And we won't talk about what the other end of her body was capable of.

So as a mother that is supposed to comfort her child no matter what, I was feeling guilty for getting a little upset with her, telling her, "As SOON as you get that feeling, then run to the bathroom." She tried many times. Failing each and every time.

A few days later the other beautiful daughter, that shall also remain nameless, got the bug. I begged and pleaded with her to make it to the toilet explaining that then all I had to do wash flush it down. No laundry. No scrubbing with resolve carpet cleaner. No changing sheets...again.

In the middle of the night, she comes into my room. "Mom, I threw up and I couldn't make it down the stairs of the bunk bed."

Ugh.

Sam went to take her bedding off and clean up the mess while I stayed with her in the bathroom. He came back to tell me that he couldn't feel anything on her bed or even the stairs. So I went to check. Keep in mind that the other sister is sleeping on the bottom bunk, so I only had the light of the hallway. I eased myself up the stairs and felt all over her bed, around the millions of blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals, gritting my teeth as if when I finally touch it, it will burn my hand off or something. But nothing. I sigh with relief. I explain to her that it must have been a dream or something, but to be safe, we would make her a bed on the couch. I go to get her pillow off her bed, reaching up from the side of the bed (rather than climbing back up the stairs) and I step in it. All over the floor. She literally puked over the railing onto the floor.

I kept my cool. And I showed lots of love. But I had a hard time understanding how difficult it was to get to the bathroom before it was too late!

And then I got the bug. And then I understood.

And now 2 weeks later I am thanking God that we are done with it!

Kissing the Cross

As you fellow Orthodox know, we cross ourselves and kiss crosses, icons, etc at church. Jonah has been getting really good at this and does this without us prompting him any time he sees a cross.

While I was out of town, Sam was super-dad and took the kids to Get-Air (an indoor trampoline park.) Jonah saw the following "X" on the ground. He got down on the ground, crossed himself and kissed the "cross."

Sounds like he enjoyed being a big boy and playing tough with his sisters!

The adventures of the un-catchable RODENT

2 weeks ago. 2 weeks! That was the first sighting of a mouse in my house! My living room to be exact. Right under my couch. Where my feet sit. Where the kids play. And I use the term "mouse" loosely because quite honestly, I don't think it was a mouse. Or a rat for that matter. It was bigger. Way bigger. And fast. And it didn't have a tail. And no one seems to believe me because I was the ONLY person to actually see it.

But the truth of the matter is, I know what I saw, and I believe me.

And since that day 2 weeks ago, we have found multiple "droppings," bites out of the fruit in my fruit bowl, (which sits on my kitchen counter! Ewww!) and oddly enough, have been through about 8-10 different traps. I also use the word "traps" lightly because to me, the word describes the said rodent going near the "trap" and would then become enclosed in it and killed! No? Am I out of line to think such a thing? Well these (yes, I am convinced there are more than 1) rodents are smart enough to lick the peanut butter clean from the trap but not become trapped. Crazy. I know.

Alas, we caught our first one. Not the one I saw that night 2 weeks ago. This one was small. The one I saw was not. IT WAS NOT!

And I'm glad we caught the rodent. However, I don't like that it was caught in my pantry. And I also do not like that it was caught while the house was completely lit! I mean, the nerve! It might as well have just joined us at the dinner table.

And now, every time I enter my kitchen, I check one of the multiple hidden traps. Because who knows when we'll catch the others.

Holy Week

While discussing the events leading up to Christ's Crucifixion with the girls, Jocelyn asked me if Jesus was offered any food or drink. I explained that he was only offered gall and vinegar and how terrible those would be and that He declined to have any.

Her response: "Well that was a waste of time for them to cook if Jesus wasn't even going to eat it!"

And then Genevieve, while holding a candle during a vigil asks, "Why are we using candles? Why don't we just use the lights and the electricity?"

The First Lady

Earlier this week Genevieve asked me the following:

"Mom, do you know Mrs. Obama...she lives at the White House?  Well, she is having an Easter egg hunt this Sunday and I want to go to it."

She asked me as if it was equivalent to asking if she could have cereal for breakfast. I mean, why WOULDN'T I say yes?

We had to point out that the White House is 3000+ miles away and we probably wouldn't have time to go for a quick day trip to enjoy Easter festivities with the President and First Lady.

I love her innocence!

The Love of the Outdoors

"If Jonah ain't happy (outside,) ain't nobody happy."

This happens to be the theme at our house these days. And as you can see, he likes eating an apple while he plays. 

Haircuts

The girls have been begging for shorter hair. As a mom with a hair length well above my shoulders, it was hard to justify a "no" answer. And plus, Jocelyn's curls hanging down half of her back is a recipe for a brushing disaster. Can you say "rat's nest?"

So we chopped it.

My middle child, who once used to be EXTREMELY shy, cannot pose for a photo without going cross-eyed.