The vomit fear has returned. My fear has been triggered by my daughter's car-bound vomiting session on the way home from having dinner with friends tonight. She had been complaining of a bellyache for about an hour or so but had said it did not feel like an I-have-to-throw-up bellyache. I tend to take her word on these things.
But not two miles into our 20-mile ride home, Blaaaeeeeecccchhhhhh. It took her longer than I thought it would to start crying. I think that was because she was so tired. Her brother calmly informed me, "Roo is throwing up." "Yes, sweetie. I know." I hear it. I smell it.
It took a while before I could find a place to pull off. When I did, I wiped her down, changed her shirt, and stuck a towel over her in case of additional vomiting. As I worked on the problem, she cried, saying, "This is the worst day ever."
We made it home without additional episodes, both kids asleep. She is now in her bed, albeit a bit stinky, with a "throw-up bucket" next to her head. And I am praying that it was a one-off and that we won't be up all night.
Oh, and I took a shower to rinse her vomit off of me and, while in the shower, remembered that I hadn't pulled her car seat out of the car to clean it and the car. But now, I'm clean and it's cold outside and it's late, so it's just going to have to wait until tomorrow. That should be fun. And aromatic.