Unless you count poor Chicklet catching a stomach bug that struck violently and suddenly in the middle of the night, causing her to throw up at regular intervals—over and over and over. :( :( :(
Complicating matters further was the fact that the hubby was out of town on business for a few days, so the kiddos and I were crammed together for a special sleepover in Mama and Daddy’s room, which did not make for ideal sick kiddo conditions.
When my poor Chicklet leaned over and heaved the first time, the other kiddos were awake, alert and on watch within minutes. And the whole process of sheet changing and washing up and bucket watch for repeated rounds kept us all up for quite a bit.
Finally, around the second hour mark when I realized things weren't going to ease up, I called it and hauled Little Man and Chica back upstairs and out of the germ zone so I could focus solely on Chicklet...and got about an hour and a half of sleep before the alarm went off for the morning. OYE.
My poor, poor Chicklet.
Now...complicating matters even further: Chica’s big Economics Fair that she’s been working towards for a couple of weeks was this morning. And Yours Truly was scheduled to volunteer and be there to cheer her on and witness the fun.
I knew in my gut at 3 a.m. that I was going to be screwed and unable to attend, stuck home to nurse my Chicklet. But breaking the news officially to Chica this morning was heartbreaking.
I mean...she sobbed and was just so, so, so sad. Mirroring my own disappointment—even as she so sweetly told me it wasn’t my fault and I couldn’t help it. I mean, UGH. And also, a bunch of four-letter words because why does life timing always work out like this???
I seriously, seriously thought about calling our sweet, older next door neighbor to come be on sick watch for just a short bit so I could run up to the Fair. But on the short ride to drop a red-eyed-from-crying Chica off at school, Chicklet threw up again. And poor Chica was the one holding the bag open for her while it happened. And I just couldn’t fathom exposing a random neighbor to that yuck.
I mean, my poor girl could barely make it inside the back door from the school drop-off. I carried her most everywhere—when she actually moved from the bed later in the morning.
On the plus side...holding her sibling’s sick bag was a pretty solid distraction from Chica’s sadness over Mama missing out. So she managed to hop out of the car—leaving the vomit bag in her empty seat, as Little Man flat-out refused to offer Chicklet the same sick assistance, ha—and head into school with her mood somewhat leveled.
OYE.
Eventually...the day progressed, Chicklet’s tummy managed to stabalize and the hubby made haste on his way back to town so that he could tag in with five minutes to spare for me to race up to school and surprise Chica by showing up for lunch. :)
My girl just beamed over the special attention, and it went a long way toward helping to ease my own sadness and guilt and really boost her mood.
So...you do your best, right? You can’t help the timing of these things, no matter who much you wish you could. You just do your best to juggle it all.
And then you look forward to passing out for a solid night of sleep and a weekend of recuperation ahead.
Oh—and in case you were wondering, Chica powered through her worries of making correct change during the Fair and sold out all 15 of her necklaces and pouches. Woohoo! And the profits went toward a children’s cancer charity. All wonderful things.
So...here’s to a huge, thank freaking heavens it’s FRIDAY!
Over and out.
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