I am not the puke parent, my husband is. He has always taken care of the mess when someone in our house gets the pukes. {For the record, I take care of blood incidents.} Our plan has worked out perfectly…until recently.
My 6 year old came down with a stomach bug first thing one Friday morning, and my husband had just left for a full day of work. Dealing with puke alone has been one of my parenting fears. After the first incident, I begged the puke gods to let this be a “one-time-we-ate-something-that-didn’t-agree-with-us” thing. It wasn’t.
It was game on. Mom VS Puke. I was determined to win.
Once I realized I was on my own with this… {I said a prayer. Really, I prayed.} Then, mom mode kicked into gear.
Towels. Check.
A bucket. Check.
Wait, 2 buckets just to be safe. Check. Check.
My nerves were on edge. My stomach in knots. The waiting game was on.
It didn’t take long.
It was like I was dealing with a tiny drunk person. There was puke, lots of it. Right off the bat I decided bribery was my best mode of operation. I told Claire I would take her to buy a new Barbie if she made it into the trash can every single time. No puke on the floor = Barbie. Yes, I bribed my sick kid. Call me a terrible mom. Call me pathetic.
I gave her tablespoons of water every 15 minutes on the advice from my neighbor mom expert, Jamie. {She says if they gulp water they will puke, so this helps keep them hydrated.} Claire complained that she couldn’t get up from the sofa because every time she stood up, she felt sick. We rented two different Barbie movies off of Amazon. After about 5 hours of misery, she fell asleep. She hasn’t taken a nap since she was 12 months old, so this was an amazing sight by itself.
I washed all the sheets, I washed the hand towels from all the bathrooms, I wiped down all the door knobs, chairs, and countertops. Basically, I’ve cleaned more than I have in like 3 years. {Don’t judge.} Puke will do crazy things to you. Oh, I really didn’t eat either…cause you know, puke. So, I was feeling skinny, the house was clean, and my sick Claire was asleep. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.
Then…she woke up. I’m like looking at her, waiting.
She was hungry, so I fed her. No puke. She went to her room to play for a bit. No puke. She drank and ate again…no puke.
It’s over! It’s OVER!!!
After a day for the record books, I realized something – puke isn’t so bad. After all, it’s puke from my baby. There is nothing more pathetic than a tiny girl clinging to you while being sick because she is scared. She wanted her hair held back and a cold towel on her tiny face. She wanted me to hold her on the floor and bring her more tablespoons of water. I’m her mom, I actually wanted to do those things. I would have done anything during that time to make her feel better…
And because I know you’re wondering, bribing with the Barbie worked like MAGIC. She made it to the trash or toilet EVERY SINGLE TIME. In the middle of it all, asking again about the promise of her beloved new doll. A few days later, we went to Target, and she spent an hour browsing the Barbie section. “You earned that, baby,” I told her.
So, I’m not afraid of puke anymore. Call it shock therapy or something. But the next time someone pukes…I’ve totally got this.
