I sincerely hope this Wednesday night pans out better than the last.
This time a week ago I was heading into a sudden and spontaneous night of blissful alone time, a rare occurrence these days.
My husband had to go to a work function and the girls were asleep by 8pm. I was about to turn on my computer to do some work but as it had been a busy week of deadlines and auditions, I thought better of it and poured a glass of wine instead. And cooked a delicious pasta. And turned on the TV to find Offspring was just about to start. For approximately 70 minutes, I was so happy. For a moment everything in the world was right where it should be and life was just about perfect.
Usually the minute you even think such thoughts, you invite some sort of disaster but I this time, I really thought I’d got away with it.
Until I heard a noise. Maybe it was the neighbours. Or simply instinct telling me to get off the couch and check the girls.
I looked in on them. All fine. Nothing to fear. I turned to leave when I caught a faint whiff of vomit and my heart sank. I checked the 6-year-old. All good. Then I checked the 2-year-old and found the source. She was a little damp with what I thought was probably just a ‘burp up’ of her bedtime milk. She was sound asleep so I thought I’d quietly change her top, maybe the pillowslip. However it appeared to be more widespread so I put her to sleep in our bed and went back to investigate.
A torch revealed that she’d projectile vomited everywhere - over the bed covers, toys, the wall – down the wall and under the bed. It was huge.
I sighed and started the cleanup process, crawling underneath the bed on my tummy, cleaning vomit off the wall and floor and wondering where my night just went. Then she promptly vomited in our bed as well.
I moved her into the lounge room and texted my husband who was luckily nearby. Finally when nothing was left in her stomach, she fell asleep and sometime around 2am, after three loads of washing, I did too.
Having never really vomited before, the poor thing was so distressed. I can’t think how she felt during that first enormous one, especially when she probably called out to mum who was too busy indulging in wine and Offspring. Since no one came, she had little choice but to go back to sleep in her own vomit.
Anyway the next day should have been a daycare day involving a sneaky trip to the Writers’ Festival however I was home with my 2-year-old, doing about 17 million loads of washing.
So now exactly a week later, my husband happens to be going out again. I’ll get the girls to bed early and this time I’ll turn on my computer and do some work. I might have a little glass of wine; I might even watch a little bit of Offspring. But this time if I pretend it’s normal everyday behaviour and not get too over-excited, just maybe, I will get away with it.