Joys of parenting...
Jan. 18th, 2006 12:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
senoritafishWhee. Just the way I like to spend MLK day.
Everyone in my family (except me) got some kind of tummy virus this weekend. John woke up Saturday morning moaning and my father told me he'd thrown up half a dozen times during the night. My dad especially concerned me because he's pushing 80 and I didn't want him especially getting dehydrated; so I went to Sav-on and picked up some Pedialyte and Gatorade, which I kept pushing at the both of them all day.
Sunday, my brother had invited all of us up to his house for dinner, sort of a late holiday meal, since he was in England over the real ones. John and Dad weren't up to going, but assured me they'd survive a few hours on their own; they slept most of the time anyway. We headed up there, and watched Bambi and Snow White, while Doug served plates to people coming in (it was sort an open house), and messed with batteries to the Furbies he gave the kids for Christmas. Old Furbies, not the new ones, which he dislikes. He also supplied a charger.
Dinner was good, although I couldn't taste the truffle in the turkey at all (doug's new beau is a chef and gave him one to cook with), but Angus surprised me and ate almost his entire plate of food. When his friends started a game of Mexican Train (dominoes), the kids were showing obvious signs of boredom, so I began packing up to make our exit. I really have to start taking shopping bags with me when I visit because every time, he gives us (or loans us) a bunch of stuff to take home. This time, the Furbies (all talking to each other now), leftovers for John and Dad, an entire sour cream pumpkin pie, and a few DVDs for the kids to watch. We loaded everyone in the car, and headed for home.
I had to stop to put gas in the car before I got on the freeway, and two guys asked for help. One asked if I could possibly buy him a burger from Carl's Jr. across the street-he'd just gotten out of jail and had been waiting three hours for his ride - I said I didn't have any extra but gas money, but I gave him some of the turkey leftovers; another was already trying to put the gas nozzle in my car, and wondered if I had any more - he was trying to get a room for the night. I gave him a piece of the pie and about 50 cents that was in the ashtray. I don't usually give money to panhandlers, but when they act grateful for a bite of food, I know they're not just out to bilk people out of their spare change. People have been kind to me in the past so I try to return the favor.
We got on the 10 and I heard Avalon say her tummy hurt. I told her to try and go to sleep and we'd be home soon. About 10 minutes after we got on the 110 heading south, she said again, "Mommy, my tummy hurts..." and then the sound of retching. Both Angus and Gareth yelled "Mom, Avalon's throwing up!" Wonderful. We're in the middle of South Central Los Angeles about 10 oclock at night. Not the safest place to pull over. Looking in the mirror - I could see she was miserable but ok for the time being. John got a pay-as-you-go cell phone last month which I'd borrowed, so I called as soon as we turned on the 405, and at first he thought we should stop at his father's house in Carson, then figured it was only 20 more minutes to get home, so that's what we did.
Got home, got Avalon out of her vomitrocious clothing and put her in the tub, which made her feel a little better, then got her in bed. She puked a couple more times before she fell asleep, and I noticed she kept wanting to arch her back and throw her head back, which made me afraid she might aspirate something. So I slept on the floor near her bed on top of a stuffed horse and bunny, bucket at the ready. Although slept really isn't quite the right word. About three in the morning, Angus started in too, and Gareth the next morning. It continued all of Monday. By afternoon, I thought everyone was starting to feel a little better, then Avalon came in while I was looking at friends's page, said "Mommy?" gave me a sad and thoughtful look.... and then projectile puked all over me. Back to bed for her, and then I got in the shower. Then I tried to figure out how clean puke off a furry electronic animal - luckily it was mostly on the surface; I took the batteries out and kept wiping it with antiseptic wet towels, and then I gave it a good spraying with Febreze.
The boys stayed home from school today, and I stayed home from work. I think most everyone is feeling better, although Angus is still dragging, but we should be ok for tomorrow. We've gone through a gallon of Gatorade, four liters of Pedialyte, two ten packet boxes of Instant Breakfast, and two loaves worth of toast.
John makes more noise when he's sick than all three of the kids put together. Doug thinks it's just because he wants more attention, but I don't know. He is a big baby when he's sick which drives me nuts, but I don't think he can help it.
So I'm tired. And how was your weekend?
Everyone in my family (except me) got some kind of tummy virus this weekend. John woke up Saturday morning moaning and my father told me he'd thrown up half a dozen times during the night. My dad especially concerned me because he's pushing 80 and I didn't want him especially getting dehydrated; so I went to Sav-on and picked up some Pedialyte and Gatorade, which I kept pushing at the both of them all day.
Sunday, my brother had invited all of us up to his house for dinner, sort of a late holiday meal, since he was in England over the real ones. John and Dad weren't up to going, but assured me they'd survive a few hours on their own; they slept most of the time anyway. We headed up there, and watched Bambi and Snow White, while Doug served plates to people coming in (it was sort an open house), and messed with batteries to the Furbies he gave the kids for Christmas. Old Furbies, not the new ones, which he dislikes. He also supplied a charger.
Dinner was good, although I couldn't taste the truffle in the turkey at all (doug's new beau is a chef and gave him one to cook with), but Angus surprised me and ate almost his entire plate of food. When his friends started a game of Mexican Train (dominoes), the kids were showing obvious signs of boredom, so I began packing up to make our exit. I really have to start taking shopping bags with me when I visit because every time, he gives us (or loans us) a bunch of stuff to take home. This time, the Furbies (all talking to each other now), leftovers for John and Dad, an entire sour cream pumpkin pie, and a few DVDs for the kids to watch. We loaded everyone in the car, and headed for home.
I had to stop to put gas in the car before I got on the freeway, and two guys asked for help. One asked if I could possibly buy him a burger from Carl's Jr. across the street-he'd just gotten out of jail and had been waiting three hours for his ride - I said I didn't have any extra but gas money, but I gave him some of the turkey leftovers; another was already trying to put the gas nozzle in my car, and wondered if I had any more - he was trying to get a room for the night. I gave him a piece of the pie and about 50 cents that was in the ashtray. I don't usually give money to panhandlers, but when they act grateful for a bite of food, I know they're not just out to bilk people out of their spare change. People have been kind to me in the past so I try to return the favor.
We got on the 10 and I heard Avalon say her tummy hurt. I told her to try and go to sleep and we'd be home soon. About 10 minutes after we got on the 110 heading south, she said again, "Mommy, my tummy hurts..." and then the sound of retching. Both Angus and Gareth yelled "Mom, Avalon's throwing up!" Wonderful. We're in the middle of South Central Los Angeles about 10 oclock at night. Not the safest place to pull over. Looking in the mirror - I could see she was miserable but ok for the time being. John got a pay-as-you-go cell phone last month which I'd borrowed, so I called as soon as we turned on the 405, and at first he thought we should stop at his father's house in Carson, then figured it was only 20 more minutes to get home, so that's what we did.
Got home, got Avalon out of her vomitrocious clothing and put her in the tub, which made her feel a little better, then got her in bed. She puked a couple more times before she fell asleep, and I noticed she kept wanting to arch her back and throw her head back, which made me afraid she might aspirate something. So I slept on the floor near her bed on top of a stuffed horse and bunny, bucket at the ready. Although slept really isn't quite the right word. About three in the morning, Angus started in too, and Gareth the next morning. It continued all of Monday. By afternoon, I thought everyone was starting to feel a little better, then Avalon came in while I was looking at friends's page, said "Mommy?" gave me a sad and thoughtful look.... and then projectile puked all over me. Back to bed for her, and then I got in the shower. Then I tried to figure out how clean puke off a furry electronic animal - luckily it was mostly on the surface; I took the batteries out and kept wiping it with antiseptic wet towels, and then I gave it a good spraying with Febreze.
The boys stayed home from school today, and I stayed home from work. I think most everyone is feeling better, although Angus is still dragging, but we should be ok for tomorrow. We've gone through a gallon of Gatorade, four liters of Pedialyte, two ten packet boxes of Instant Breakfast, and two loaves worth of toast.
John makes more noise when he's sick than all three of the kids put together. Doug thinks it's just because he wants more attention, but I don't know. He is a big baby when he's sick which drives me nuts, but I don't think he can help it.
So I'm tired. And how was your weekend?
