:: Thank God it was just that. Yesterday. Been, gone, finished.
:: Events began at 2am. Concluded around midnight.
:: Ruby appeared at my bedside requesting a cuddle. Moments later, after I knew what was coming, I rushed her to the bathroom.
:: She didn't make it.
:: Splatter carpet, clean pile of clothes, stack of my Real Living mags, handful of novels. Thankfully this was mostly shielded.
:: Splatter rest on toilet and tiles.
:: Ruby had a grand time drawing pictures on the shower screen.
:: I did not have a grand time cleaning up.
:: Everybody awake.
:: Sick Eliot had been in bed with us.
:: Cole joined the party. He thought it was morning time.
:: Ruby clean and back to bed.
:: Eliot coughing and choking on phlegm. Vomit.
:: Clean up more vomit.
:: PJ change.
:: All is finally clean and quiet.
:: Few hours sleep.
:: Choose carefully what goes in Ruby's mouth.
:: Ruby complains of blocked, sore ear again.
:: Weeping ear. Again.
:: Make doctor's appointment for Ruby and Eliot.
:: Cole cranky all morning. No wonder, from the disrupted sleep, even though he seemed to think it was fun.
:: No more vomiting from Ruby, good sign.
:: Eliot has a lovely big sleep.
:: The smell that awaits me in Eliot's room post-sleep nearly knocks me flat.
:: Cole falls asleep ten minutes before we have to leave for doctor.
:: He never sleeps during the day.
:: His colour is not right. Think he is getting what Eliot has.
:: Get everyone in car.
:: Sleepy, cranky Cole crying and irritable.
:: Happy chatting trying to calm him down. Who am I kidding.
:: Pull into car park, looking for spare spot.
:: Cole burps.
:: Cole projectile vomits.
:: Four times.
:: All over himself and car seat. Yep.
:: He wins the award for first child to vomit in the car. Sadly, there is no prize.
:: Strangely he is quite calm. I recall actually chuckling to myself at the sight before me. And the fact I reached my hand around the back of my chair in an attempt to catch the vomit. Because two litres of purple, watered down, orange chunked, juice vomit is going to fit neatly in my cupped hand. Good one Tahnee.
:: Our doctor's appointment is in ten minutes. Our doctor's rooms are less than 100 metres away. My car is full of sick children. I laugh at the cruel irony.
:: I clean his hands and face. The rest is impossible.
:: We turn around and head for home.
:: I carry Cole into the bathroom in a V shape so all the vomit stays safely in his lap.
:: I undress him in the bath to make clean up easier. Clever me.
:: He is happy and clean in the bottom of the shower. I call the doctor to cancel.
:: I spread towels all over the couch and set him up for some rest. And a bucket.
:: He sleeps.
:: I air the car. Remove the car seat. Marvel that not one drop of vomit made it's way onto any part of the upholstery and remained entirely on Cole or his car seat. Definitely a miracle considering the force and speed at which it came out.
:: Now in need of coffee. Me, not Cole.
:: Realise we have no milk. Was meant to get a few groceries after the doc. Awesome.
:: Plenty more vomiting. Plenty more vomit splashed towels and PJ tops head to the laundry. Doesn't keep anything down for another eight hours.
:: I make last minute dash to chemist at 8.50pm for Hydralite.
:: Continue cleaning. Shower. Breathe.
:: The boy sleeping soundly on the couch.
:: Long awaited coffee, cake, catch up on Rafters. Catch the end of The Wedding Singer. The only Adam Sandler movie I can tolerate. I love Drew Barrymore. And the song he sings on the plane at the end.
:: Patient manages to keep Hydralite and juice down.
:: We bunk on the couch together. Top for tail. Towels and spare doona are easier to clean up at 2am than entire bedding. Thinking ahead.
:: Sleep is very disrupted, but vomit free. Hurrah.
:: We need a new couch.
:: Today was so much better than yesterday. And vomit free.