Yesterday I went to Westfield at Tuggerah. I transferred some money from our holiday savings account. It was worth it. As much as I hate to dunk into that account, I needed to. We had to go down to pick Lily and Madeline up from a sleepover with Grandma anyway so we thought that it wouldn’t hurt to do a touch of shopping.
We bought some play equipment for Ivy and Noah because they had enjoyed Sammy and Joel’s so much and we purchased a second swing so that both of them can be pushed at once while I’m hanging out the washing. There were other things that we bought too, essentials like wipes and…well, I guess Lily and Maddy thought that a new Beanie Bear was essential and that AJ and Mal believed that they absolutely needed that football… Anyway what we really transferred the money for was sheets.
I think the lowest point for me, as a mother, is when babies throw up on you. Not just the normal possets that all babies do. All of mine have decorated me in such a way at some point in their babyhood. The first time ever Immy, who was about eight months, vomited over me just after a full lunch. It was gross. It was large and it went into all the crevices of the lounge where I was sitting at the time. THAT was memorable. The others have done it but nothing so… chunky or confronting… until Saturday morning.
Noah and Ivy have had croup then asthma and it has now progressed to a cough. Just a garden variety cough. On Saturday they woke and had their morning bottle. All was good. It was a little early for them and cold but nothing too out of the ordinary. Ivy got down from the bed and pottered around. Noah snuggled down on top of me. He was coughing just a bit. Then he sat up and started coughing more. I was patting him on his back, consoling him when all of a sudden he gave one almighty cough and up came the entire bottle! The thing is that, right at that very moment, I had my mouth open in an ‘O’ (as in ‘Ohhh, poor Noah, you’ll be ok.’) but it was not ok, none of it was.
He got my face, hair and inside my mouth, down my shirt and all over my last set of flannelette sheets. He got the blanket and one of the quilts too.
I know, I know it’s all very gross and makes you want to throw up as well. It did me, there was some dry retching on my behalf, that was for sure. Also tears (lots of them) because after the last month of sickness, being vomited on was like the last punch in the guts. Showers were had by all and finally a few laughs over the whole thing. (It was ok for David to chortle, HE didn’t get anything but some splashback on his PJs sleeve). Noah was right for the rest of the day. No more spew and barely any coughing.
I had to tell you that story because I needed to justify why I spent alot of money on Saturday and why when I saw that new minky blanket in Adairs, I just had to have it.