Jeez, two times in the last week I have been awakened in the middle of the night to somebody who has wet the bed and needed everything stripped to the mattress and laundered at 2a.m. Let me paint a little picture…two twin beds in a 10’ by 11’ room, practically – to the walls they are up against to create enough floor space between them for play. Yes, it could be worse, they could have footboards, but changing the bed is still a giant pain in the rear. So much so, that I don’t change them as often as I probably should. Maybe the boys purposely wet the bed so that I will give them clean sheets, either way, it sucks!
Last night was Mikey’s turn…he showed up in my room at about 2:30 crying that his stomach hurt. Frantic to get him into the bathroom, I got him situated in front of the toilet and went out to strip his bed. After getting the linens into the washer, I ran a bath for him so he could soak in the warm water and maybe settle his stomach. Yeah…I think I was being played. He’s been sick with a fever and a cough all weekend, but I figured he would go to school today since he showed signs of improvement yesterday. It’s looking like he had other plans—like to try out his acting skills on me at 2:30a.m. I think he woke up, realized he wet the bed, decided that he didn’t want to go to school or get in trouble for having an accident, so he manufactured a new illness. He never got sick, and we both went back to sleep on the sofas in the living room.
Angry Pierce came whining out of bed at about 6:30 looking for us. Once he found “him’s mama” he crawled up on me with my Nook and proceeded to flop around and play Angry Birds. At one point he appeared to finally settle down when I felt warm pee running down my stomach, legs, sofa, and the beautiful afghan that my mother knit for me and that I rarely use because I want it to be an heirloom. I tackled the throw with a warm cloth—thankfully it’s wool and didn’t really absorb Mr. Pissy Pants delivery. Gosh I am sick of pee on my stuff! Pierce heard about it from me, too, and cried a lot, but I bet he still doesn’t tell me when he needs to go.
Still…it gets better…Mikey woke up still in acting mode, and it was an almost believable performance, so I kept him out of school. Not to worry, though, it wasn’t long before I was sorry for a couple of reasons. One: because I could see him ramping up to his normal self, although he’s pretty quiet and mellow this afternoon. Two: because at about 8:30 Pierce was glued to me on the sofa and really fidgety sofa. He started to cry like he hurt himself, and then he threw up the breakfast shake he had just finished. I got Mikey to get me a bucket and a cloth, but not before it got on me, Pierce and ANOTHER throw I have in the living room.
The past several hours have been spent comforting, consoling, holding the bucket, being grateful when he could sleep, and then doing it all over again. He wanted water, but it was back in the bowl within 10 minutes. I gave him children’s Pepto, and I can feel his temperature rising, but I’m not sure if he can keep down Tylenol. One thing I know is true is that when it’s your kid you can certainly stomach the vomiting.
Good times at the Donovans…