Showing posts with label barf. Show all posts
Showing posts with label barf. Show all posts

Thursday, May 8, 2008

Today was James' Garden Party at school. It has to have been the cutest thing ever! James was "Pig Number 2", and had THE best lines...smile. His 2 brothers caused quite a scene, however. Joseph decided to throw up on me, and of course, I was wearing black, so it showed up fluorescent orange. Here I thought I looked SO sophisticated with my pseudo pedal pushers, flowered flip-flops and "in" hair do. It wouldn't have been so bad, except that the other 2 sons went home early (thanks to Mr. Jack-Man for that one!) and I was left with a "snail trail" of vomit down my arm and shoulder, so I didn't even have a baby with me for an explanation.


Jack was in rare form. Or typical form...take your pick. Running all over, climbing on chairs. Yelling "HI JAMES!" to his brother in a perfectly quiet auditorium, and when I take him out in the hall, all you can hear is "BUT MOOOOOM! I HAD TO SAY HI TO BROTHER!!!!!!!!!!"


I was so impressed with James' teacher, Mrs. McNulty. I had to laugh because here she was, sundress and pony tail...acting out all of the kids' parts for them while standing on the sidelines. It was just the most adorable thing ever. James sure is going to miss her when Kindergarten is done!

Friday, March 21, 2008

Red Cleavage

WARNING: Gross story ahead!
I am going to preface this blog entry by stating the obvious; Jack is NEVER aware of any of what I am about to write about. We never make our kids feel bad for a bodily function....even one that is gross...smile.

Jack has had an ongoing problem lately that is starting to worry me, not to mention seriously puts a cramp in our collective style. The boy throws up at the drop of a hat. He smells Joey's baby food, or GOD FORBID a dirty diaper, and breakfast/lunch/dinner is revisited. He smells one of those really expensive, but horribly smelling cheeses at the grocery store? CLEAN UP IN ISLE 3!! He goes to his first swim lesson, and gets a TINY amount of water up his nose and he clears out the pool in 5 minutes flat. You have never seen a more irritated mother than one that has to pull their screaming kids out of a pool because someone just threw up in it.

All of this was very much on my mind when we went to the water park. Now, clearing out a pool at the YMCA is vastly different than the water park. I could only imagine how many times I would have to apologize for my son, Projectile Pete. I racked my brain trying to figure out how I could contain the inevitable mess, yet not make Vomitous Victor aware of the problem AND still be able to move around the water park. The obvious choice would have been to plastic coat Puking Paul, me and the surrounding area, but that was unrealistic. I would need to be able to do so inconspicuously.....Bowls wouldn't work; too cumbersome, and really...where would I keep it? I suppose I could look like an opera singer and wear two bowls down my shirt, but I really am not looking to add to my chest size. Too bad it wasn't Hula Day at the park, I could have worn a coconut bra. A bag would have to do and I just happened to have a Target bag with me! But where to carry it. I could tie it to my bathing suite, but I didn't want to explain to everyone I saw that I didn't have a colostomy bag attached to my side. DOWN MY SHIRT! Perfect! It would be hidden, secure and easy to access when needed. I imagined the great fan fair when, like a magician, I pulled a long plastic bag out of my bra to the delight of cheering kids everywhere just in time to catch Ralphing Ricky's pool contribution.

Thank GOD we didn't need it, and I have to say, it was amazingly comfortable. I completely forgot it was there until I went to change and thought I had contracted Scarlet Fever. My ENTIRE chest was red. I was about to yell to Daryl to call 911 when I realized that all of the ink from the Target bag had, I assume, reacted to all of the pool chemicals and was covering my upper body. At that moment I realized that I had crossed over to the alternate universe known as "Mommy World". I had heard of this place, but never thought I would get to go there. It is a place where otherwise perfectly normal women do things perfectly absurd for their kids. It mattered not one iota that I very well could have been walking around with Red Dye #6 covering most of my upper body; Hurling Harry needed something and I was there to supply it.

I suppose it could have been worse. I could have had to pull a rabbit out of my cleavage.