Yesterday morning started with our usual Tuesday routine. Religion over breakfast, quick get ready, and out the door. I dropped The General off at his classes, and was on my way to my Scripture Study (it is my guilty pleasure). When I hear Bubby's gurgled, "Mommy!" Yep, gurgled. You know what is coming. . .
I look over my shoulder, and poor Bubby is covered in vomit. I yell for Princess to help him, as he is still throwing up, and all she can manage is an, "Oh, gross. I think I'm going to be sick." As she is gagging and trying to open her window for air, I make a split second decision not to press this one. I'd hate to test her gag reflux.
I frantically look for a spot to pull over. NOTHING. I turn the corner, still no shoulder on the edge of the street. I zip into a neighborhood, slam on the brakes, jam the van into park, jump out, and run around to Bubby's side to help him. Poor boy was COVERED in vomit. He's crying, Princess is gagging, Calgon anyone?
Fortunately the vomiting subsided, so I calmly undress him-careful not to smear yuck all over his poor little face.
Here's where the chuckle comes in.
Since Bubby has been such a great boy, potty trained for over 1 1/2 years, I don't carry a diaper bag. Rookie mistake, I know, I know. So my little man is standing in the rain, sick and shivering. What is a mommy to do?
Thank heavens for the layered look. I take off my jacket, (the people whose neighborhood we just invaded probably think I am nuts) peel off my long sleeved t-shirt, and put it on Bubby. Now I am standing in the rain, in my tank top, in February, freezing. (Maybe, they all went to work and didn't see me? Or they work the nightshift and were still sleeping?) Princess, still trying not to lose her cookies, is staring at me with a, "have you lost your mind?" look on her face.
I rearrange the children. Bubby in Princess' booster, Princess up front (I know back is safer, but I REALLY didn't want to clean up more puke) with a cracked window for fresh air. We made it home uneventfully. Now that Bubby wasn't covered in yuck, and her stomach was safely calmed, Princess took him upstairs and bathed him. I tackled the messy clothes and car seat. (How did I do this without my big kid helpers?) As well as finding myself some more clothing.
So that's it my friends. Look for me on the news, "Crazed Mother Strips on Quiet Neighborhood Street!"
Are we having fun yet?
**This is an actual story out of the life of Momma Nomad. Bubby is feeling better, and no other children have succombed to the virus, thus far.