The Sickly Children

          Last night, I tucked in, smooched, and hugged two healthy children.  At midnight, I was woken up by Caleb.  I had fallen asleep on the couch, and he had his little face right on my ear, whispering, “Mommy!  Mommy!  Are you in there?”

I saw he was covered in child barf.  For some reason, before I was totally awake, I thought he had spilt oatmeal on himself.  Within seconds, I realized it wasn’t breakfast; it was the middle of the night, and my child had puked.  I changed him, cleaned the mess, put him to bed, and told him to come get me if he started feeling sick again.  At three in the morning, I heard him shriek from the bathroom, “Mommy!”

I stumbled out of bed and went to the bathroom, and saw he had pooped water…everywhere.  In his attempts of cleaning himself, he had managed to get his child poo on the wall, the floor, the back of the toilet, and all over himself.  Eww. 

I brought him to bed with me after that.  This morning, I woke Makayla up for school, and the first thing she said was, “I think..I think I’m…”  She gave me “the look,” the look that means, “I’m about to throw up.”  I am familiar with said look and said, “OK, it’s OK, run to the bathroom.”

She ran to the bathroom.

“Over the toilet, over the toilet,” I urged.

She put her head over the toilet.  And then barfed on my feet and the floor.  It never ceases to amaze me how a child can have a perfectly good toilet right under them and miss it completely when throwing up.

I took her temperature, saw she had a fever, and called in to her school.  I learned there was a bug going around.  Caleb woke up and both children looked at me with glassy, feverish eyes.

“I’m sorry you guys are sick,” I said, “You may watch TV and relax today.”

Caleb went to the window, looked outside at the rain and said, “It’s raining.  The moon is pulling all of this water down.”

Yesterday, he asked if the moon makes us cold since the sun makes us hot, and Makayla explained that the moon makes the waves in the ocean.

Makayla was too tired to argue with him, which is astonishing, since she is very big on correcting her brother.  I don’t see the point in correcting every single incorrect thing a four year old says. 

“Did the moon eat up the sun or sumpthin’?” Caleb asked me.

“No Bubba,” I said, “It’s just cloudy and the clouds are covering up the sun.”

“The sun must have got cold then,” Caleb said.

“What?” I asked.

“He needs the blankets, probly,” Caleb responded.

Oh.  Duh mom.

Caleb's Discovery

        Written yesterday afternoon:

  Monday through Friday has become such a routine.  The alarm goes off, I snooze it, it goes off again, and I lurk into the kids’ room to wake up Makayla, vowing to go to bed earlier from now on.  Kayla gets ready, and we wake up Bubba, who always whines for five to seven seconds about how he’s not waking up, before he leaps out of bed, demanding oatmeal and Mario Brothers.  Today was no different.  Even though Makayla’s school is a five minute walk, we always have to leave a good fifteen to twenty minutes early since you would think my children have never seen leaves, bugs, puddles, or flowers before.  Every day we see the same thing; every day, the children marvel over the same stuff.  And every day, it makes me smile.  On the walk to school, Caleb pointed to the moon and squealed, as if he was pointing out a box full of gold and screeched, “Sister!  Mommy!  Look!  It’s the moon.” 

“Yes Bubba,” Makayla said in her helpful, big sister voice, “It is the moon.  Earth only has one moon.  Some planets have a lot of moons.”

“Uh huh,” Caleb said.

We walked a little more, me gripping Caleb’s hand, Makayla stomping on bugs and picking up leaves.

“Mommy,” Caleb said.

“Yes son?” I asked.

“If the sun makes us warm then does the moon make us cold?”

“No Bubba,” I said, “The moon does not make us cold.”

“Then what does it make?” he asked.

Before I could say anything, Makayla said, “Bubba, the moon makes the waves in the ocean because it pulls on the earth a little bit and pulls the water.  That is how the moon makes waves.”

“Will the moon suck us all up?” Caleb asked.

Makayla looked at me with wide eyes.

“The moon will not suck us up,” I reassured them.

We dropped Makayla off at school, chatted with the crossing guard, who every morning mutters about “these drivers,” and started on our way back home.  Halfway home, Caleb found a pecan that was still green and stopped to pick it up.  I am very used to having to stop multiple times anytime we walk anywhere, while Caleb picks up random things or inspects bugs.

“Mommy…look,” he said, showing me his green pecan, “Are there caterpillars in it?”

“No Bubba, that is not a cocoon.  That is a seed.”

“I want to keep it forever,” he said, “I want to see what’s in it.”

When we got home, he tried to stomp it open and failed.

“Would you like for me to break it open for you?” I offered.

“No,” he said, “I would like to just play with it.”

“Do NOT put that in your mouth,” I told him, “It is not food and you could choke.  You can play with it if you promise not to put it in your mouth or throw it at the kitty.”

“I promise,” he said.

“Do you want to run in the front yard before we go in?” I asked him.

“No,” he said, “I don’t want to get an injury.”

Haha.  Two days before, while running, he had tripped and scraped his knee.

We went in and I got on with my daily stuff.

“Can I watch TV?” he asked.

“You cannot,” I told him, “Remember, you are grounded from TV today for getting into the coffee mix.”

“That’s right,” he said, “I am grounded today.  I will never get into that stuff again.”

I went on with laundry and dishes and cleaning, and since I hadn’t heard from Caleb in a while, went to check on him.  He was sitting under the kitchen table with a sharp pair of scissors, cutting into his green pecan.

“Stop!” I shouted, horrified at how close he was to cutting himself, “Bubba, put the scissors down!”

He dropped them and looked at me with a confused expression and said, “Why Mommy?  I’m seeing what’s inside of here.”

I crawled under the table, grabbed the scissors, put them up, and came back to him.

“Do not get into the scissors son.  You could have cut yourself and it would hurt.  If you want to see inside your seed, come get me and I will help you.”

“OK, Mommy,” he said, “But LOOK.”

He showed me his green pecan.  I saw he had successfully cut it in half. 

“That is neat, huh?” I said, “It’s fun to see what’s inside of seeds.  But we do not EVER put stuff like that in our mouths.  You could choke or it could make you sick.”

“I know it’s not food,” he said, “I just wanted to see what was in here.  It’s cool in this seed.”

I marveled his pecan and said, “That is very neat.  Let’s break it apart more to see the rest of it.”

“No!” he screamed, which made me jump, “I don’t want to hurt it.  It’s my friend.”

He cradled the two pieces of broken pecan, took his shoes and socks off, put one piece in one sock, the other piece in the other sock, stuffed the socks in his shoes, and said, “It’s time for them to take a nap.”

Ok then.