This morning we woke up to vomit…and lots of it. I promise I won’t go on and on about the puke for long, but some of you may find this humorous. Some of you may be able to relate. And some of you may not want to.
For the past few weeks, Ella has been waking up excruciatingly early. I’m talking like 5:30 or earlier. For the past week, it has been very hard for Mommy to get ready for work in the morning. Our darling little ankle-biter has been joining me in the shower, playing in the closet, climbing up and down our bed, fiddling with my night-stand stuff, and brushing her teeth more times any child should in one morning. I know, I know, you’re thinking, life is hard. It’s not hard. It’s an adjustment. And I can’t really let her do any of the above things without supervision because, after all, she is a toddler. Toddlers are notorious for getting hurt and poking their eyes out. Now, back to the puke story…
This morning, we woke up to the usual raucous the dogs make at about 5:30 when they’re restless and hungry. But when we looked at the clock, it was more like 7:13. What!!! Ella was still sleeping. We usually hear her talking to her dollies by now. Strange, I thought. I put my head back down, yelled at the dogs to shut up, and then checked Facebook. Twenty minutes later, Derek got up, fed the dogs, made coffee, got me coffee, and turned on the TV to golf. Of course, I was still fiddling with my phone–eBay, Words with Friends, Pinterest–the usual stuff.
Somewhere in the middle of all that, I poked my head in Ella’s room to make sure she was still alive. As soon as I opened the door, I smelled what I thought was poop. She was lying on her belly, butt up in the air, hands under her face and fast asleep. I made sure she was breathing and then closed her door.
I know, I know, I should have gotten her up. She had a load in her pants. But I figured that if she was tired enough to not care, then she needed the sleep. Don’t judge… (I’m pretty sure I’m not the first mom to let their kid sit in a load of poo so that she could have more coffee/TV time. Maybe the first who will admit it publicly, however.)
I piddled around in the craft room/office. I was organizing my jewelry and eBay packaging stuff (it’s taken off, my friends). After about 10 minutes, I shimmied back into bed and continued my phone stuff–clearly ignoring my dear husband and his golf. But not before we made the pact to get her up by 9–by this time it was about 8:45. No sooner had we made the pact when Derek decided to go in there himself. Within about 10 seconds of him entering Ella’s room, I heard, “Mommy, get in here please.” It was real calm and he was calling me Mommy so I figured Ella was up and alive. And he said please. He would be more panicked if she weren’t. (As a Type A personality parent, you always worry about those things. Or just worry in general.)
I casually walked into Ella’s bedroom and then was hit in the face with the stench. Bam! Ella was standing up in her crib and Derek was slowly tossing all of her blankets and dollies and books onto the floor. “We have a situation here.” I didn’t have on my glasses, so it took me a minute to notice that there were 2 large piles of puke on Ella’s pretty purple flower sheets. It was also covering Ladybug, Big Snake, Pooh, Bunny Rabbit Book, Pillow, Tink Pillow, Icicle, and her 2 quilts–yep, she sleeps with a lot of stuff and I’m not even listing the stuff that was safe. It was also caked in our poor child’s hair, back of her neck, chin, around her ears, and all over her jammies. Yuck!
The old me would have just tossed these. However, they’re so precious to Ella. And they are milestone memories to me. These are the post-bath survivors (Tink and Pillow didn’t make it):
Ella was really quiet as we cleaned it all up. Derek and I just kept looking at each other, until finally one of us said it. “What the hell? Why didn’t we hear her? Why didn’t we know this happened until now? I feel so guilty for not knowing.” She didn’t cry or make a peep.
She puked and then fell back to sleep. I smelled what I thought was poop and walked away. What kind of shitty mother am I? No pun intended. How could I not know it wasn’t poop? I had 2 pangs of guilt going–one for not hearing her in the middle of the night and the other for walking away.
That’s the whole point of my story here. As parents, we try to be everywhere all the time. We don’t want our kids to fall or fail or say or do the wrong things. We also try to know everything and think we do most of the time. Truth is, we know very little! We’re new at this and it’s ok. This day, I decided to ease up for a second and enjoy a few more minutes to myself. Sure, if I would have investigated further, I would have learned it wasn’t poop. It also would not have changed the fact that it happened sometime during the night and she didn’t cry. If she did, we didn’t hear it, but I have a hard time believing that. I wake up when a dog stretches. Impossible. Or is it?
Either way, I beat myself up for it on the inside for a long part of the day. We let Ella watch Mousey (Mickey Mouse Clubhouse) a few more times than usual. She got new hair bows and neon socks at the store. She took her shoes and socks off in the cart and I didn’t make her put them back on. She got extra snuggle time with Daddy before nap. Yes, she got a dose of the guilty-parent syndrome, but whatever. We felt bad.
Here she is–milking it while watching “Mousey”
In her “boat” at Wally World:
I know that we’re going to make lots of mistakes. I was slightly selfish this morning and our daughter suffered because of it. Technically, she didn’t really suffer because she was fast asleep. Regardless, it was pretty gross and no one should be lying in piles of their own puke (I know first hand–this happened to me after a night of drinking after my high school graduation…). Anyway, to err is human and especially in parenting. My guilt is over and I know that Ella loves me just the same.
Thanks for listening.
Happy Sunday. Go Broncos!