Wednesday, 5 September 2012

An eventful few days, or, my sons, aka Casper, and my niece, aka the heart-stopper.

Warning - this post contains talk of vomit, and the close call of a child. But don't worry, she was fine, and completely unharmed - no gore.

"MUMMY! My tummy hurts!" followed by wracking sobs.

It's about the worst thing to be heard as you're drifting off to sleep at 11:45 on a Sunday night. It's only pipped to the post by being woken by the sound of a quietly sobbing child, who then proceeds to throw up everywhere before you get them to the bathroom. I only narrowly avoided that this time as Ethan had forewarned me of feeling sick, the sob-and-puke is his go to sick move.

Hand on heart, I'd rather be ill myself for 24 hours than have a late night sick child. Nothing can prepare you for the panic of a child about to vomit on the top bunk. Do you attempt to grab them and run to the bathroom? (this was tonight's choice, but has had little success in the past) or do you let them (continue to) throw up where they are, and hope to contain it to one area? This prevents The Trail, buy goes against the nature of preventing a giant mountain of laundry.
Poor Whitey White Bear. He has now been initiated into the Fraternity of Daz.
He looks so melancholy, poor chap. Side note, we've had Megamind on several times recently, and I can no longer say the word melancholy (at about 1:05) properly.

So by Monday lunchtime all was sorted. Ethan was tired, quiet and still the colour of Casper, but not throwing up anymore. 

Tuesday dawned with everyone bright and happy, and we went off to visit Amy, Hayley and Austin for the last day of the holidays. After lunch we decided to go to the pond across the road where there's a small field to run on. When we got there a tractor was cutting the grass, going around the edges in ever decreasing circles. Sam almost burst with excitement at seeing a tractor, and so the children played in the middle and the plan in my head was to simply move to the cut part after the tractor did another lap, where we would then have enough room. 

Hayley had a different plan. She began running to the bottom of the field, so Amy and I shouted to her to come back. She paused, turned, saw us calling her back, and carried on. At this point, the tractor turned back towards the bottom, and we got a bit worried. When Hayley still didn't return to us, Amy started to get upset (hint, this is an understatement.) and her shouts got more panicked, but she was holding Austin and didn't know what to do, so I started running. Here was our mistake - you see, Amy runs. Most mornings. I do not run. ever. I'm going to guess there was about 200m between Hayley and me, and let's face it, I'm not going to be outrunning any tractors. However, I could hear Amy starting to sob in her shouts and so I just went for it. 

It was genuinely the most terrifying moment ever, I don't know if the tractor driver saw what was going on and if he did whether he understood. Perhaps from his perspective he could see Hayley, and where he would be driving and knew it would be fine, but we definitely could NOT see that. The tractor passed and it looked like it was within a foot or 2, though when I got to Hayley I saw that he'd swerved and missed a large patch of grass, so I'm guessing now that he saw and calculated, and wasn't even particularly concerned he might hit her, as he knew he wouldn't.

Hayley laughed. We did not. But the important thing was that she was fine, and I'm pretty sure after Amy's dressing down she's learnt her lesson. I felt like I was going to collapse and die on the spot. While walking back up to the house, I could see my foot prints in the long grass, and they were very far apart, I was really pushing it! For the rest of the day, my legs felt like jelly. Driving home was interesting! 

So, Tuesday early evening, we get home. I order pizza as a last summer holidays huzzah, and while we're waiting for it to be delivered, Sam throws up everywhere. Ill child at night/Casper part 2. Only it's worse in three ways. Firstly, because Sam refuses to throw up if he can help it, so it ends up being some kind of horrific choke-fest with each episode. Secondly, we were literally almost out the door to pick Rich up from the station. Thirdly Rich got it too this time, a few hours after Sam. I was using hand sanitiser like it was going out of business, and fingers crossed am so far unscathed. Sam managed to turn it around really quickly, and by 7am was fine again. Rich, not so much.

This morning Ethan started reception at school, but more about that later, as this has become a bit epic and the car seat still needs cleaning. Oh yes, that happened. I'm exhausted.

Update: This blog has now moved to - Hope to see you over there!

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