a true story

Sunday we came home from church and I was feeling really ill. So I ate some crackers, fed Elsie and went to bed. I had the chills, had the sweats, had a bucket near by.

At 4:30 that afternoon I woke up and was taking it nice and easy. Rory had just changed Elsie who was still wearing her dress from church but nothing but a diaper on the bottom. This is important to note because as we sat in Ivar's room watching him play, Elsie sitting upright on my lap, she filled that diaper. Or she would have filled that diaper had it been covering both of her butt cheeks. Instead I suddenly felt lots of warmth on my lap.

I hollered for Rory to come and take his daughter. He had heard the filling from the other room and we laughed when he lifted her away. The diaper was empty. My pajama pants were a sight. 

Ivar was interested in what we were laughing at and came to look. But the second he saw my pants his face fell and he went white. His eyes began to water and he looked like he was choking on his tongue. I tried to reverse this moment, but it was too late. The boy lost his lunch, projectile, getting the floor, himself and mostly my pajama pants.

It didn't stop for a while. I yelled for a bucket and Rory threw the one that had been by my bed into Ivar's room running back to Elsie and yelling, "why is this happening?!!"

Minutes later Rory was taking all articles of clothing...Elsie's soiled leggings, Ivar's spewed on shirt and pants, and my poor pajama pants that were victim of both, and starting a load of laundry. I was on my knees working spot shot into the carpet, and Ivar was playing with his bath toys in a tub with no water, waiting for one of us to be able to supervise.

When Rory came back upstairs he began to run Ivar's bath water and I commented, "hey. remember how I am the sick one today? let's not forget that."

Ivar was fine after his bath. We now know he has a terribly weak stomach. And Elsie was fine once she had a diaper covering both cheeks. And strangely, after inhaling the fumes of spot shot and gross, I started to feel better too. I think it was the adrenaline of surprise shooting through me (or shooting at me?) that kicked me back into mother mode. Clearly there's really no good time for the mama to get sick.