Friday, 16 November 2012

An Eventful Night

Now let me tell you. About an hour ago this post would have had a very different title. Namely 'The WORST night EVER!'
However an hour into the future and its been downgraded to just Eventful.
And it goes a little something like this:

So after a 10hr shift (normally 7.5hr) I go and pick Master A up from childcare. He was actually in a great mood considering it was already 6 o'clock and he hadnt even eaten dinner.

Drive home was uneventful. A rusk kept him occupied and we arrived home about 6:40pm.

Dinner was ok after a couple of knockbacks we settled with easy yoghurt cos I knew he'd eat it.
Meanwhile I was getting my own tea ready to have after he went to bed.

Then it was time to tackle the bath. This is where it went pear shaped and I was ready for that.
So I chucked him the bath (not literally of course!). Tears were streaming so I got the deed over as quickly as possible. (He did have yoghurt smeared everywhere!)

Off to the changetable where he started to just get hysterical. So much so he was coughing and choking, like you do when youre just so darn upset.

Anyway off to get the bottle which I knew would calm him down and then it was home free.

Well so I thought.

On the way to the kitchen, still hysterical, he starts coughing and out comes some spitty vomit. In that split second I knew what was coming but I was too late.

POWERCHUCK everywhere. And not once but TWICE!

We have wooden floors which comes in handy in these cases but Master A's aim was so good he even managed to get some on the one rug we have in the house!

So at this stage we have vomit all over him, me, the rug, the floors. Oh, and Mr Seahorse. His favourite toy.

So off we all go into the bathroom again and chuck him back in the bath. Meanwhile I'm stripping off and about to lose my shit.

So we repeat the bath process again. Changetable, new jammies, clean Mr Seahorse and manoeuvre our way back through the living room, dodging vomit along the way.

Make it to the kitchen relatively unscathed.

Bottle is fed. Once relaxed again I decide Ill try and tackle this mess.

So I prop Master A on the lounge, out of the way and get to cleaning.

Ive almost finished cleaning the walkway when he starts getting hysterical again.

And he powerchucks again.

All over the couch.

Our suede couch.


I'm about to join Master A and cry. I throw my hands up in the air and ask God why? What the fuck have I done to you tonight?!

I grab Master A, who, by the way, is still vomiting and crying hysterically. Pop him on the floor nowhere near any fabric and get to finish cleaning so we have somewhere clean to walk.

The poor kid is sitting in a pool of this afternoons food and muttering obscenities to myself even though I know its no-ones fault.

Bath, change for the third time and I get to cleaning up the mess. Again! This time Master A is sitting near me ON THE WOODEN FLOOR.

So here I am 90mins later writing this post. Master A's now in bed and Ive vacuumed and mopped all the floors. I still havent had tea and the washing machine is now beeping at me.

The vomit covered clothes are now clean.

So I just had to get that out. Not only for a riveting blog post but also for something to look back on and maybe have a chuckle about.


PS I was flying solo tonight. Husby was at work.
Damn him.

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