Hazmat Do Not Enter!

When your kids get sick its heartbreaking; when mama gets sick its a disaster! As I sit typing this post on my patio, enjoying the rare sun in Ireland, I am recalling a day fraught with ridiculousness and semi tragedy. Sitting here with my homemade mocha I shudder that it ever happened and am thankful to have survived mostly unscathed. Here is the story of one unlucky Saturday morning (a short 5 hour window after a husband left for work) in the Emerald Isle.

Friday evening was spent splurging on bagel sandwiches from Itsa and running around on the local village green. I looked forward to the sunny weather ahead for the weekend and planned Saturday out at the Docklands festival in Dublin.  I awoke, of course, too early due to my two year old son’s inability to sleep past 7 am. I knew immediately that I was not well, but had no idea that world war III was about to break loose in the form of a viral attack on my family. Mere moments after my hubby walked out the door for work I found myself trapped on the toilet….you know the moment when you realize its coming out of both ends and without a basin you are in for trouble. Luckily, our powder room in Ireland is literally 1×2 square feet so I can actually vomit into the sink whilst sitting on the toilet…..I guess this bathroom has come in handy after all. Managing a nearly two year old and his nearly four year old sister with a splitting headache, vomiting, and the runs is quite a task; have you ever tried running backwards up the downwards escalator?

Little girls are all about themselves if you don’t or haven’t had one yourself, so A decides to throw a tantrum on the stairs as I lay comatose on the couch praying for my own survival. Amidst cries for Caillou by the baby or Chuck the Truck or Super Why, I am running to and from the bathroom. You see baby T changes his mind on shows within seconds of starting a new one and today I don’t have the mental fortitude to withstand him, so I cave and navigate Netflix with the wireless keyboard I bitched at my husband for buying. Turns out he was right, but I will conveniently forget to mention this to him later.  No worries I can whip up a quick breakfast, the sink is right next to the stove if I feel ill 🙂

I’ve got A screaming bloody murder over some trivial BS, T spilling bubbles on the floor and Mr. Big, not to be outdone, has decided he will vomit all over my sissal rug. That’s ok Big, sissal rugs are inexpensive especially when they are giant ones that cover your whole dining room floor. If you know Mr Big then you know that he is a loveable, but dumb brown dog who generally causes melee and mayhem in our household. I am in the midst of alternately cleaning up a giant pile of dog vomit and vomiting myself. My routine is interrupted with “Buster is so gross, Mommy! His butt stinks!” I take a quick bathroom trip myself before going to investigate this claim and find Mr. Big has in fact, leaked his anal glands onto poor A’s pants. If you never had the pleasure of owning a dog let me bring you up to speed….dogs have these gross little sacs called anal glands that leak a foul smelling liquid when they use the potty. Few dogs will have an issue with these nasty little glands and will occasionally leak the rancid smelling liquid; guess who was lucky enough to get one of these “few dogs” ? Yeah that’s right, me!

I get A all cleaned up and both kids dressed for the day and take a few moments to brush my teeth, wash my face, etc. A mommy rule of thumb is to always be somewhat presentable no matter what the situation because you never know what or who the day will bring.  I am happy to say that I followed my own rule because the children wanted to play on our back patio and I agreed. Sadly, this was the one day it was sunny in Dublin and most certainly the first day I ever felt warm outside since my arrival. Please note having the flu is somewhat like being hungover in the heat :0

My perfectly dressed neighbor stopped by to say hello and of course, A begged to help her plant flowers, so I allowed her to go. Miss Karen told me she could keep her until my husband returned home since I was so ill. I am in cotton pajamas without shoes which is embarrassing because we live in a section of Dublin that is tantamount to Beverly Hills. The relief of being down to only one kid (kind of like the feeling of being kidless when you only have one child) is instantly replaced with “Oh shit, I didn’t shut the gate and there goes the dog!” So through the neighborhood go baby T, Miss Karen, A, and me clad in my jammies wearing no shoes. We hear a small dog’s distressed cry which immediately leads us to a giant idiot prancing about the neighborhood unaware that he was terrifying the locals. A few minutes later we thankfully cornered him and brave little A grabbed him by the collar gleefully saying, “Look Mommy, I got him!” All I can think is hope he doesn’t run or she’s dead…stepping up next to her I grab Big’s collar and feel a searing pain in my right foot….I have stepped on a giant thorn…rufkm? Hobbling down the street in one of D4’s pristine communities I drag my goofy beast and two children into my house. A few minutes later my husband arrived home and as to be expected the rest of the day went rather smoothly…..until Monday when the rest of the family got sick. Once again Buster joined in vomiting all over the floor but lucky for me I was well again and able to care for three helpless humans and dog who refuses to not be the center of attention.

87 loads of laundry, 3 hazmat style house disinfections, and a sleepless night with a poor, sweet girl later I am finally getting a few minutes to type up this crazy story that us “Moms” call life with kids. During the typing of this blog post I got 2 kids snacks 3 different times, let a dog in and out of the house more than I care to count, made chocolate milk, taught a little boy to blow bubbles, and performed various household tasks. But this was a story I just had to share….please feel free to share your crazy mom stories with me because this, as I said, is just life with kids and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Stay strong ladies, stay strong!

H.

This harrowing incident took place the last week of May 2014 just for the record.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s