You're not going to be seeing much of me online or out and about this week...
Aiden woke up yesterday in a foul mood, kicking on the changing table and later biting Brian out of frustration. Not at all like our playful and busy-but-sweethearted boy. I figured he must be coming down with something. He woke up at midnight with a 101.7° fever wanting some juice and had a full-blown cold by 9 am this morning when he got up from his first nap. When I laid him down for his second nap he was quiet long enough for me to move clothes to the dryer, start a new load of wash and do my quick dust of all the flat surfaces in the entry, kitchen and living room. I had JUST sat down to work on the shelf sitters I'm making for the charity craft show when I heard him cry out. I let him fuss for a few minutes then went in to check on him. I instantly felt like the worst mother in the world.
Aiden was covered in pink. He had thrown up and the smell was overpowering. Worse, he'd thrown up once in the crib, stood up and then thrown up again over the side of the crib. There was a GIANT puddle of pinkish tinted puke (from his cranberry grape juice and medicine) on the sheets and large pink splatter stains all over his shirt, his blanket, the carpet and the stuffed doberman I made for him. I picked him up and set him on his changing table before I realized his bum was covered in vomit, too. He must have thrown up, stood up, lost his balance, sat in it, then stood up again to throw up over the side. So now the changing table pad is pink, too. Gross.
I strip Aiden down for a bath (chunks are falling off of him - HOW is it in his hair?) and hurry him in to the bathroom for a splash-rinse before I fill the tub with Johnson's vapor bath and let him soak. The washer is only 8-10 minutes into it's cycle and the dryer is full of still-wet clothes so I can't do anything for the moment. I let Aiden take a long bath and we blow bubbles in the tub, which makes him laugh for the first time this morning. I'm dressing him on the couch when I hear the washer finish it's cycle and I don rubber gloves to tackle the room of puke.
An hour and a half later my fourth load of laundry for the day is running, the crib mattress has been scrubbed, the sheets have been changed, the carpet has been hit with the Spot Bot and the crib itself has had all the dribbles and splatter washed away. I'm about to put Aiden down for his super late, much needed nap when I find a shredded toothpaste box that I KNOW was sitting brand new, with toothpaste in it, on Brian's counter this morning. The hunt for the toothpaste tube begins. In my head I'm already writing the story on my blog when I find it, whole and unopened, in the bottom of Aiden's closet. Disaster avoided - his clothes are safe!
When he won't stop whimpering at my feet, I pull out his big, soft octopus chair and put in the Jungle Book. I sit on the floor beside him to get him engaged in the movie as I eye the mountain of laundry needing to be folded behind us. The little boy who doesn't ever slow down for a cuddle grabs his blanket and crawls into my lap. He lets me hold him until he begans to nod off and I lay him down for another nap. I'd say cleaning up all the mess this morning was well worth that 30 minutes! Funny, I don't mind him getting colds. It's the only time he wants to be held!