Thursday Thirteen - 7th Dirty Story

7. This feels like the right story at the right time – (remember I said I had 13 of these, well I do, but I only wrote the first 6 and then just named the other seven, so they are being written “real time”.

My darling daughters share a room – it hasn’t always been that way, before they all had big girl and big boy beds (you know we still had cribs and/or toddler beds) – we varied the combinations around. But once the youngest had a “big girl” bed, we figured it was time to think about gender and we put both girls in one room together. Well the bedrooms in our house are not what you would call ‘huge’ in fact they are on the small side (not compared with what we had growing up, but still, small for two beds, two dressers, etc.). So we had these two twin beds in this room and dressers, etc. And it was really just too darn crowded once they began to accumulate stuff of their own. So we determined it was time for bunk beds – and they easily agreed on who should be on top and who on bottom – so this made life easy – but… youngest wanted bottom, but she didn’t like being completely under her sister – it made her feel “claustrophobic”, so we put the beds in an L shape of sorts, because these beds were designed so that you could do that. The top bed went North-South and the bottom bed went East-West. Well this created this wonderful little cubby area that was under older sisters feet, but not really “out in the room” – this was really great for youngest, it was like her very OWN space and she loved it – I seem to remember we had a desk in there, but I don’t know exactly how or what.

Anyhow, everyone is sound asleep, husband and I are going off to bed, and of course he has always been able to fall asleep in about 12 seconds, whereas I lay there a little while and then fall asleep – well… as usual, I was half-asleep and he was snoring (loudly – and no that’s not why I don’t fall asleep – I will write a post someday on my secret hatred for the sleep apnea machine – IT’S TOO QUIET), and I hear this faint little “mommy” – no maybe I didn’t hear anything… wait there it is again, maybe louder – and then… “M.O.M.M.Y.!!!! D.A.D.D.Y.!!!”, very loud, unmistakable – youngest is freaking. We jump out of bed and run in there… and oldest is leaned over her bunk bed wretching, and youngest is sitting up just barely out of the line of fire screaming her head off… older sister didn’t want to puke in her own bed, so she leaned over and puked all over her sister. Well of course I’m thinking about clean-up immediately, and thus far the mess is completely contained on youngest’s comforter – so I begin telling her not to move… I am so mean, here she is trapped under a lake of vomit and I won’t allow her to move, lest she disrupt the nice levees her legs under the covers have created. Husband has gone for a ‘puke bowl’ and youngest is now yelling at her sister “puke in your own bed” – and I’m saying ‘no, no, this one is already dirty’ – but she is a voluminous vomiter and has already gotten to dry heaves, so really it is academic at this point. Now son is awake, standing in doorway laughing at all of us – of course – he isn’t puking, puked on, or about to clean up puke – so it’s all good in his world (he will get his though, oh yes he will get his). Once the bowl was safely under the oldest, I scooped up the comforter, headed for the laundry room and let husband comfort the youngest who was completely traumatized by the whole thing. I still have not lived it down – I frequently get the “but mommy, you have a carpet cleaning machine, you could have just shampooed the carpet and let me out”.

Not an especially dirty story, after all, but timely none the less… my girls still share a room, still have bunk beds (in the usual configuration now – youngest wasn’t about to expose her legs to her sister after that), and actually they still vomit occasionally – however I can tell you now that they don’t wait for mom and dad – the sick one will wake the other and they are remarkably fast at getting to the kitchen for the bowl for the other sister. In fact, they don’t even wake us anymore – youngest was barfing last week, and we only knew because we saw the bowl in her bed – “hey what’s with the barf bowl in your bed” – “oh I threw up last night, my sister cleaned it up for me” – so those of you who think you can’t possibly follow your children around forever cleaning up after them – keep in mind that they do eventually begin to take care of themselves and it is sad and exhilarating all at once.