Bucket brigade

I’ve been told by my advertiser, who keeps track of such things, that it’s been a week since I updated my blog. Apparently, they miss me and want to know how I’m doing.

Ironically, I haven’t been writing because life has been too busy. Tonight, for example, I’m up on barf watch, with the monitor in the living room while Mama sleeps in our bed with her body pillow which has the rough size and shape of a 30-foot long half-coiled python. I refer to it as the Berlin Wall, so she’s likely not missing me much at all. Ever since I stopped bringing my grappling hooks to bed, I’ve had no way to get close to her.

But back to barf watch–at about bedtime, which is around 8:30 these days–3B was busy playing with knives–butter knives before you call child protective services…they just happen to be right next to the butcher block is all–when he suddenly declared that his stomach hurt. We shrugged it off for a moment, especially since we had a neighbor over, surveying our washer/dryer install to see if he could do the same in his unit.

A moment later, however, 3B was briefly in tears, so the neighbor made his exit while we tried to get 3B into bed. He kept calling out and tearing up, which is not at all usual for him. While I held him in my arms, Mama called our friend, who just so happens to be an excellent pediatrician, and asked all of our questions–ulcers? ruptured spleen? appendicitis? Alien thingie that bursts out through your shirt at the dinner table?

He said it was likely a minor virus and did we have a bucket handy? Mama grabbed a small red bucket as she walked back in the room–just in time for 3B to return his dinner into it. Following that there was much moaning–those are my genes showing–some crying and a few more rounds with the bucket, and one with the sheets and blankets on the bed, which are now in the dryer.

Admittedly, that’s not what’s kept me offline for a week, since it just cropped up tonight, but this is just the latest representative sample of what’s been taking up my copious spare time. I’ll be home from work on daddy duty/barf detail tomorrow, so perhaps during nap time I’ll have a chance to catch you up on some of the rest. If I’m not napping myself, that is.

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  • I am so sure that is what the advertisers wanted to hear from you. They could check Facebook and Twitter to see that you are still alive, like I do. I am glad to hear that 3B is doing better this morning.

  • When my kids were throwing up, it was just never as poetic as it is in your house. I am a little jealous.

  • CAGirl: Why do you think I wrote about it? But seriously, they're nice people and every once in awhile we get a check from them for enough to all go get some ice cream.

    KMoo: Poetic? I'm sorry, I must not have accurately described the smell.

  • Ah, buckets! Dudelet got so attached to his at one point, he wouldn't sleep without it just in case he spontaneously needed to vomit. And I have (not so fond) memories of the Berlin Wall. Supermum still seems to need four pillows arranged in a particular way to my one.