God and HIS ways

I have to start this post with a warning.  If you are squeemish in any way, do yourself a favor and don't read this.  It is a graphic portrayal of my week of puke.  It is graphic on purpose; I want to remember it that way because it was, in real life, graphic.  It was nasty, and gross, chunky, and just, well, puke. 

For those of you who know me well, you know I have a vomit phobia.  For those who don't know me as well, now you do.  I have a phobia of my children vomitting, of being the barfer myself, of strangers upchucking around me, etc.  It sends me into panic just thinking about it.  And there is no sarcasm in this at all.  It is a true phobia.  I have actually been labelled as OCD due to excessive hand washing because I am afraid of throwing up.  My kids know that the first thing they do when we come in from the car is get a stool and wash their hands.  But God, that darn God of mine, he is funny sometimes.  He isn't one to let us sit and be afraid of the unseen things such as viruses. 

Saturday Scott had to go to Statesboro for a math league competition.  As if that doesn't sound aweful in and of itself, (I hate math and busses, so to me that would be my idea of punishment for something gone awry), Scott woke up and said "My stomach is upset."  Well, Scott's stomach is always upset.  He has IBS, big whoop; needless to say I blew that little statement off.  So I was pretty surprised when he called me a couple hours later and told me that the bus dropped him off in MILLEN at a BP because he was sick.  He was sitting in a chair with his pillow and blanket next to the bathroom door.  Poor guy.  Fortunately for me, a friend of his picked him up because he doesn't have kids and knew it would be hard for me to get to Scott.  Of course I was going to do it, no questions asked, but I am so thankful someone else stepped up.  Unfortunately, Scott barfed all over Doug's car, so when they got home I donned my latex gloves and armed myself with some lysol wipes and cleaned up his car.  It was eggroll, by the way. 

Tuesday night Jordan crawled into bed with us.  When she does this it forces me out of bed due to space issues.  I came to the couch to sleep, but not before getting  a glass of water.  An hour later Jordan comes out to say something and before she could she just started to spew.  Lucky for me I had an empty glass to catch it with.  I then get out my barf bowl, get her comfy on the couch and me not so comfy on the floor and stay up with her all.night.long.  It was a rough one.  I gave her sips of water just so she would have something to throw up.  Both her eyes were bloodshot the next day due to popped capillaries.  Do you want me to be more descriptive?  Shall I go on?  Okay.  My pleasure.  Guess who is next.  Moi.  And of course, in true mom fashion, we either don't get it at all or we get it the worst. Well, I took the bullet.  After taking care of two sickies I get it the worst of all.  I am out of commission for two days.  In fact, I just ate my first meal last night.  THE VERY DAY I decide it may be safe to leave my bedroom JW gets it.  I cannot say this more literally, I open my door at the very same time that he opened his from taking a nap and I smelled it.  The timing couldn't have been more made for t.v.  It is an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond being lived out in my home.  We just dropped like flies one right after the other last week.  Then, to add insult to injury, mother nature makes a visit on Friday.  That week has been hell.  Nothing less than hell.  If I were not a believer, I imagine my hell would involve a never ending stomach bug.  And the laundry.  Oh the laundry!  I think I can dig myself out eventually, but it may take a while. 

Can you spot the dog?  Mollie enjoyed the soft cushy spot.  And trust me when I say that the entire house looks like this.  And this is just sick laudry; this doesn't include dirty stuff that a household of five just accumulates due to being alive.  One room at a time...one room at a time.  That will be my motto until the house is clean again.  Oh, and lysol spray.  I can't forget to go get some of that.  It will get done in time.  I am tired.  Tired to the bone.  I fell asleep in church, that is how tired I am.  Yet I am oddly proud of myself for making it through with minimal complaining, eyes fixed upon the cross knowing that this too shall pass, both figuratively and literally.

A couple things I learned, some more important than others:  One, latex gloves are a must as a mom.  Two, hardwood floors beat carpet any day, and a steam mop comes in handy on said floors.  Three, Snickers candy bars are the hardest thing ever to throw up.  Thought I was going to choke.  I couldn't get that thing up to save my life.  After that it was smooth barfing.  Fourth, iPhones are good for taking pics on the fly, but the pics themselves aren't so good.  I miss my camera!  Fifth, and by far the most important, I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.