Some of you who have been visiting this little blog for a while might remember parts one and deux. Well, we have certainly had some additional episodes of barfing since Part Deux, but last night was a return of the fear that we saw in part one. You know the fear . . . the kind that comes from being in bed with a barfy child.
The Boy started going down hill after I picked him up from school, and he got worse as the evening passed. Unsurprisingly, he was nervous to be alone while he slept, so he and I both stayed on the queen-sized futon in the guest room. Since he felt bad, he squirmed a lot. And with every sudden move he made, my adrenaline shot up, preparing me for sudden hurling. Fortunately, he, like the Girl in part one, was very controlled and contained, and nothing truly messy happened, but trying to sleep through sporadic adrenaline rushes (and even controlled vomiting) is not easy.
And not only does the poor Boy feel bad, but this certainly adds one more challenge to this crazy week that I was already moaning about.
And then I found out yesterday that I need to have a meeting on Friday (the last day of finals) with the presidents of the Faculty Senate and Faculty Union.
I think I'd rather face the vomit.