Akin to the Bog of Eternal Stench

Drew has had what the doctor called a "stomach bug" for four days now, and I can't go on without sharing some of our experiences with you. And you know you can't live without reading about our household's bodily functions.

Drew has had the flu before, so this is not the first time he's experienced vomiting, but his reaction to it is always the same: run. My queue to grab the barf bucket is when Drew is laying lethargically on the couch or recliner and he suddenly jumps up and starts running around in circles. By the third time he pukes, I usually have the moves mastered to ensure that at least some of his stomach bile doesn't hit the rug.

We were doing fine with this routine all day on Tuesday, and then Wednesday came and he was fine! Hooray! I was no longer glued to Drew's side, ready to whip the bucket under his chin. (Asking the kid to run to the toilet would be completely insane at this point.) And then Thursday came and we had diarrhea to deal with. It wasn't anything that his diaper couldn't carry the burden of, and I was glad to have only been 12 hours into potty training when this whole thing started. If we'd been on day three, this episode would have been a huge set-back.

Half-way through Thursday, the vomiting decided to make a come-back and Drew and I handled it like pros. At that point, I had washed my hands so many times that I'd gone through two bottles of liquid anti-bacterial soap and all the skin on my knuckles. Stinking dry weather. So I knew I could live through it as long as nobody else caught it, whatever it was.

Today came, and we were once again free from any symptoms of flu or various "stomach bug" until about an hour ago when I was monitoring lunch in the kitchen, and I heard an eruption in Drew's pants. We're talking Mount Etna. I asked Drew if we could go change his diaper, and he yelled, "No, I not. I draw!" And he pulled out the crayons and some paper. I decided it was just as well, I would pull Bryan and Trent out of their high chairs and put them in their cribs before I attempted disaster clean-up. I managed to get Trent down and was headed back for the kitchen when I heard Drew crying, "Owie!" in the kitchen, trapped by the baby gate. I could tell just by the way he was standing there that we had a major flood on our hands. Or running down his legs, rather. He said he could wait right there while I laid Bryan down, because the last thing we needed was a curious toddler's help.

I knew when I smelled it that I should have undressed him in the tub, but I ignored that instinct and laid him on a towel to change his diaper. When I lifted his shirt, it was too late for any kind of civilized clean-up, so we did the best we could with the tsunami of yellow filth sloshing all around, and all the while, Drew kept crying, "Owie, owie.." I pulled his shirt off as carefully as I could, and then the cries of owie became even louder. He pointed to his mouth, and sure enough, his mouth was covered in diarrhea. It's really hard not to laugh when someone else has diarrhea in their mouth. I should have just cut the shirt off.

I got him into the shower and cleaned up with a nice, baby fresh smell which was contained to just the bathroom, and I left him there, standing in the shower stream, soaking in the heat and steam, while I went out and stared at the pile of soiled clothes sitting on the towel. I couldn't make up my mind if I should just dump them all in the trash or try to salvage them. In the end, I decided that the orange shirt was one of my favorites and needed to be passed on to Trent because it would match his hair so nicely, but I couldn't stand the thought of rinsing the clothes first, so I just shoved them all in the washer by themselves for a double wash, double rinse in hot water.

I am really finished with this "stomach bug". Drew's docile temperament while sick is no longer worth the smell, or the hand scrubbing, or the general state of heightened tension as we wait for the next explosion from one end or the other. On the up side, if he has to be hospitalized for dehydration, then the nurses can take a turn at clean-up! And now, I have to go light every candle in the house.