The Post In Which I Bore Everyone to Tears

Tuesday morning, Baroy came back upstairs after going down to get N dressed for school. "Um, apparently, N threw up in his sleep last night."

(N, for the record, has this extraordinary 'talent'--if that's what you want to call it--for barfing while he sleeps and never making a sound, never waking up, just sleeping in it. It is the ultimate of gross. I keep thinking that one night he's going to choke on it, which is why I still use the baby monitor in his room, even though he's nearing four years of age.)

I went downstairs. He seemed bright eyed and cheery, but he was laying on the couch, and didn't seem to have much energy. Besides, I'm not going to send a kid to daycare when he threw up hours earlier. That's just mean to all the other moms. So we kept him home with Baroy. That night, he had an attack of diarrhea, so we kept him home on Wednesday, too. By Thursday, he was well enough to go to school. Baroy took him, and came home looking ashen.

"I think I have whatever N had," he said, before laying down on the couch for the remainder of the day in a near coma.

The good news was that it seemed to pass fairly quickly; by the end of the night, it seemed to have run its course.

Which of course meant that at 3 this morning, Em appeared beside my bed. "Mommy, I just threw up all over my bed."

I tucked her into my bed next to Baroy, went downstairs and cleaned up her room, and went to sleep on the couch for a couple of hours. Called her school to record her absence before I left for work. By noon, I knew I was done for the day, excused myself to my boss, and drove home as quickly as I could, because I was pretty certain I was going to pass out within seconds. Em had just finished vomiting for what seems to have been the last time.

Welcome to the House of Fun.

So now, here I am, laptop plugged in, cat curled up on my feet, kids running up and down the stairs to see me. My head is throbbing, I'm queasy as all hell, and all I can think is, "Please let this be the end of it."

There are some up sides, however. N came up to me a few minutes ago, saw me lying here looking pathetic, and said, "I rub you belly so you feel better, OK?" And he did, while Em stroked my head and kissed it several times, like the way-too-maternal creature she is. And I did feel better, if only in my heart.

Wow. Aren't you guys lucky today! Puke AND cloyingly cute kid stories all in one post! No need to thank me, really...