Right in the middle of last night's drama text war, Donovan threw up. No warning or anything, just puked all over the place and sat in it and cried. This is a first for him. My kids don't get the "urps" because I got it enough as a kid for all of us. I said "Did you throw up?" even though he doesn't even know what that means. Donovan, not knowing how or why any of this was happening, was completely offended and in the most appalled voice a three year old boy can muster said "Yes??!?!"
I cannot stress enough how little I deal with these situations. I had no clue what to do about it. I couldn't decide if I cleaned up the bed or him first, or even how to clean those things, or whether I should just run up and down the road screaming for help.
I said "Hold on, baby, I'm going to get some paper towels."
Donovan screamed, "NOooooo..........I throw uuuuuuuuup..."
I ran to the kitchen, then couldn't quite figure out what I was going to do with the paper towels, anyway, so I put them back. I went to check on Donovan -- still screaming, still sitting in puke.
I said "Hang on, you wanna take a bath?"
He continued screaming. I took it as a yes.
I left to run the bath.
Then I came back and patted him on the back. It takes awhile for the bath to be ready, so I left again to find towels and new pajamas and new bedding, in what resulted in my running back and forth about twenty times from his room to every other room in the house, basically accomplishing nothing. He screamed some more.
When the bath was ready, I picked him up strategically so that he wouldn't get any disgustingness on me. He was offended by that, as well. I washed him, and then he was freezing.
After I got him dressed again and covered up, I laid him on the couch so I could go clean up his room. He immediately puked again, all over the couch and his new cleanliness.
:::sigh:::
I said, "Ok, don't move."
He got up and started running in circles, screaming about something he needed but he doesn't really speak very well, and I didn't know what he wanted. I finally figured out he wanted paper towels, so I handed some over to him while I did the rest.
I had given him a bucket...he is now convinced that the bucket is the evil device that caused all of this, and that his bed is also in on the scheme. He wants nothing to do with either of those things that make him throw up.
I stayed up most of the night, cleaning and making sure he was all settled in before I went to bed. When I climbed into my own bed in the wee hours of the morning, I heard him running down the hall. He wanted to sleep in my bed. Awwwwwwwww....the little puke machine wants mommy! Dang it! I said "Honey, maybe your bed is better...you still sleep on things that are covered in plastic. Mommy's bed is permanent." He didn't agree, so I let him in. Poor kid. He spent the rest of the night chasing my face around in his sleep so he could cough directly on it.
Fantastic.
