Tuesday, January 06, 2009

You smell a little like barf.

I lovingly dedicate this post to my sister, Rechelle, who can't stand to talk about anything that involves excretions from the human body.

Did you know she had one of her 'episodes' at my house on Christmas day when her husband accidentally grabbed her arm hurting a cut she had on her wrist from dropping a glass bowl? I thought she was going to faint fifty different times, but instead she just did a lot of high pitched wailing and low pitched moaning and by no means would let any of us, including the doctor, look at her cut.

Oh, wait! I forgot, before I get into my bodily fluids post, I have to tell you how guilty I feel for NOT sending out Christmas cards this year. I thought putting up that little poll on my side bar would reassure me that there are TONS of people that don't send out cards, but NOOOOOOO you all had to tell me that YES you are sending out cards and now I feel like a big looo-hooo-hooo-zer!


Do you think it's sorta funny that I just assume you all know what a chicken tractor is? Here's the low down, it's a portable cage that you put on your lawn so the chickens can free range on the grass and bugs in a confined area. Here's a bunch of different designs, I like the A-framed shape the best.

Now, lets talk about barf.

Sunday night my belly started feeling a little icky. I said to Clay right before we shut off the lights, "Wow, we haven't had anybody puking all winter." Clay in his wise tone said, "Winter ain't over yet" and with his next breath he was snoring, leaving me to toss and turn.

Clay falls asleep incredibly fast and he's very hard to wake up, unless a child falls out of a bed, then he flies out of bed ready to rescue the hurt child. I don't know what it is about the thud of a little body on the floor that springs him out of bed, but calling his name from the bathroom between hurls of vomit....forgetaboutit. I know this, because I've experienced it MORE THAN ONCE during our marriage.

At some point in the middle of the night I felt the urgency to get my rear to the bathroom and Lord in Heaven there was a lot of 'stuff' coming out of both ends of me. After the fountains of puke and poop ceased to spring forth their uh, er, liquids, I felt right as rain. In fact, I bobbed downstairs and let the dog out, took a slug of milk (because I couldn't find any Tums to get the battery acid taste out of my mouth) and I went back to bed happy and relieved that whole business was done.

That's when Clay woke up and asked if I was okay. And I thought I was, so I answered, "Yes. I feel much better, so much better." And we both went back to sleep.

Then the second episode hit me. It must have been pretty close to Clay's alarm going off because this time he was awake. I will spare you the details. You're welcome. I just want you to know it's very nice to have someone put a cool towel on your head and clean up after your sick self and not say a word about how gross you are.

In sickness and in health, thanks sweetheart.

Anyway, I spent all day sprawled in my bed wondering when my stomach might like to right itself and my sweet Clay stayed home to watch our two littles. At one point Clay came into our room and said, "Hon, can I draw you a bath or would you like to take a shower? Cuz, uh, it smells a little like barf in here."

Wait, a minute. I take back that part about not saying how gross you are. Oh, and I forgot that after I was done puking he said something like, "Gah, you look terrible, your face is totally white!" I saw myself in the mirror and it was pretty scary, I even had raccoon eye from my mascara being smeared...but only on one eye which made me look like the evil raccoon eyed pale face lady. Lovely.

I didn't want to stink up the whole house so I went to the bathroom, took one look at the shower and went right back to bed because at that moment I didn't have enough energy to get my clothes off much less stand for more than a minute. Barf smell, shmarf smell is what I say.

Later in the evening I was feeling better and decided I needed to get myself washed. Clay came into the bathroom, I looked at him and sheepishly asked, "Gah, it stinks in here. Is it the bathroom...........or me?" You know you have a relationship built on trust and honesty when your spouse replies, "It's you. You smell a little like barf" and then he said, "That would be a great title for a blog post!"

Just what I was thinkin'.

Gosh, I love that man.

ps. #2 on my 2009 list. Done. Although after I start thinking food is not my enemy I will rectify that loss.


Rhea said...

Oh, your man's a keeper for sure. Tells you when you smell, takes of your sick self and comments you should blog about it. I'm in love.

Those chicken tractors rock. I was thinkin' I could get one for my kids to stay in...

Rhea said...

OH, and just for Rechelle...I was up at 4am cleaning puke and diarrhea off my bathroom WALLS last night/this morning. It was a crime scene. I've been forever scarred and my nostril hairs singed with the smell...

April said...

Oh Rhea,
You poor thing! Kids have no timing skills when it comes to barf.

Gladys said...

I love when they tell you the truth. I also love it when they run your bath, wash your hair and make sure you have clean clothes to put on. If you find one like that would you see if he has a brother? ;)

Melody said...

Even with puke and poop you had me laughing!

I hope that you are feeling better!

Jenni said...

1) I do not send out Christmas cards and I am not a loser. Well, not much of a loser. I haven't lost my added holiday weight yet and I still know where my car keys and cell phone are.
2) I know what a chicken tractor is because a friend from high school recently found me and started emailing me her homeschooled daughter's farm newsletters. They're actually pretty good.
3) I'm SO glad you feel better and that you (hopefully) no longer smell like barf!
4) Clay is a good dad. He has mom hearing if he can hear a kid falling out of bed. I thought only moms had that super power. My dh is a good dad, too, he's just not endowed with that particular super power.
5) My dh gets physically ill at the mere mention of puke. (Except for that Monty Python scene with the guy puking in the restaurant. He can handle that with only a slight amount of discomfort.) Sometimes if I want to annoy him, I make little sounds like I'm starting to throw up. I'm that secure in our relationship. Plus, he still really owes me for the countless times I've had to clean the puke alone, particularly that time one of the kids puked in the tent at 2am. Putting your face a foot from the door and feebly calling in, "Can I help?" after you know the puke is already cleaned up does not count.

Andi said...

April, you poor thing. Nothing is worse than puking...NOTHING! I feel your pain. I puked for 40 weeks straight, 24 hours a day for both pregnancies...No kidding...hospital stays, out patient IVs. THIS is the reason I only have 2 children. With the first pregnancy, my hubby was all supportive, cool cloth...holding my hair, etc...2nd pregnancy: "Honey, can you close the door? I'm trying to sleep." He realized I wasn't going to die, I'd willingly done this a 2nd time, so his sympathy was limited. I hate puking...

Sharon said...

Oh yuck! I had one of those days once after spending 2 days taking care of the kids and their illness. But I have no Clay. ugh.

Linda said...

If that's not love, I don't know what is. My hubby and Clay sound a lot alike. I could puke my guts up all night long and he'd sleep through the whole thing. But then he'd lovingly clean the bathroom for me and tell me how gross I am. It's a soulmate thing I think.

Hope you're feeling better and it doesn't spread throughout your house.

Rebecca said...

I totally had the picture of a tiny tractor being driven by a rooster in Top Gun shades. I think my definition is more fun.

My grandmother had one of those made up for her twin boys in the 1950's. It was the only way she could keep them out of pasture and the cow poop.

Kim said...

What a coincidence; I posted about poop today too. Not puke; I haven't gotten that happiness yet this year. It's coming though; I know it.
My husband is good about assisting with vomitous as well. I wonder how that is, since he can't seem to stomach cleaning out the fridge. Hmm.

Jaclyn Bailey said...

We have been battling the same thing as you here in Washington since the 3rd! I totally understand. All 3 of the kids have gone through it, Owen went through it.... I think it is my turn next.... Fun times!

Cynthia said...

Wow, Saturday night I was up all night doing the same stuff you were doing on Sunday night.

ooops, sorry!!

Cynthia said...

Oh, and I did not send out cards this year either.

We are united, sista!

idreamicanfly said...

Um, I didn't send out Christmas cards this year. Or emails. Or write a newsletter. I *bought* the cards. They're still sitting on the table. Does that count?

Yeah, that's a good, long-term marriage. When you can go - "Gaw, what's that smell? Did you just fart?" And he goes, "Yup, that's me. Sorry. I'm really farty tonight." And you go, "You know, I think I need to be in the other room now..."

Wanda said...

I enjoy your blog, it's become a routine part of my day!

Trisha said...

Sorry that you had such a bad experience! Husbands always seem to react like that to illness!

Anonymous said...

Well, I know all about the stomach bug flying around. Sorry you had to go thru it - how many others has it affected in the house? When I'm sick not one single person in the house will care for me. They just leave me in the room to die! But yet, I always make sure they have what they need, and clean up/disinfect after them. Next time, will you send Clay to my house with a cool rag for my head?

LISA said...

I just figured this identity google/blogger thing out so I had to try it out. Sorry - I didn't say I was a smart person.

Beth said...

Oh, I hope you feel better soon!

Yeah, why do we spend so much time worrying about everything else (barf, barf, barf) when we're sick?

cndymkr / jean said...

You need to tell us more about your sister's "incident".

I never send out Christmas cards but I love getting them.

Clay, you are a keeper. Just the fact that you stayed home to watch the kids and didn't run away quickly - that's a wonderful thing.

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Shelley said...

RIGHT after we returned from our honeymoon, my honey got sick. And as I voluntarily, out of my own desire, cleaned up warm, fresh barf from the hallway floor (he didn't make it to the bathroom the 1st time in the middle of the night, poor dear), I thought, "THIS is real love!"

You know how I love bodily fluid talk :)

Good job on the 5 pounds! Although I wouldn't want the pukies & poopies to get there either.

Shelley said...

Oh, btw, I am also known as Southern Gal (from www.southerngalinsocal.blogspot.com) I have two blogger accounts (no reason - I just opened a new one when I got married w/married name, & sometimes the old one gets in there anyway). Love your blog!

Jenni said...

So sorry you were ill.
Though it make for a funny post.

LadyFi said...

That's hilarious! I know just the feeling and smell all too well..

And BTW, we didn't send out a single Christmas card this year. Not. a. single. one.

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