I don't know what got into Grace last night (well other than a cheese enchillada and two bowls of Fruity Pebbles) but about midnight I heard her call for me from her room. I shuffled in there to see what was up and take her potty. She said her tummy hurt but I just blew it off because she's one part hypochondriac and one part drama queen. I never knew a kid who enjoyed going to the doctor, having a booboo or ailment she could share with everyone as much as her.
She said she wanted to sleep with me and I told her no, there was lots on nighttime left and everyone had to sleep in their own beds. She cried and we rocked for a while until she was finally ready to lay down. I layed her down and she said she was really cold so I tucked her in good and shuffled back to bed. Before I even got to my bedroom door I heard another "Mama?" and headed back. Just as I walked into her room I heard her wretch and enchillada and fruity pebbles went EVERYWHERE.
Now I realize how lucky I've been that in four years this was the FIRST time she had vomited, but honestly, that DOES NOT help at 12:30 in the morning. I held her at arms length and plopped her into the bathtub, stripped off her clothes and covered her up with a towel then went to wake up Bryon to help because misery LOVES company. I assigned Bryon to Grace cleanup and redress because the boy can't do puke or poop...or so I've been led to believe. He can gut and clean a deer but can't cleanup any bodily output...whatever.
Of course it was on the bed, every covering AND the floor so I picked up the chunkies and trudged it all to the laundry room and started a load washing. Bryon go her cleaned up, teeth brushed, clean jammies on and checked her temperature. She didn't have a fever and was chatting us up the whole time we were working so we decided it must have been the Mexican food even though neither one of us got sick. Finally new sheets were on the bed and at 1 am we were rocking and trying to get back to bed. I left the trash can in her room and gave her the throwing up in the middle of the night into a trash can lesson. Then she did, again, but into the trash can so I cleaned it out, brushed her teeth again and started over with the rocking. FINALLY she was ready for bed and made it the rest of the night without incident.
I've washed four loads of vomit clothes today and finally, just now it doesn't smell like a vomitorium anymore. Today she's been complaining off and on about not feeling good but surprisingly doesn't want to take a nap, or lay down or doing any of the SICK things other than play and watch TV, so I'm pretty sure she's okay.
She did say I should kiss her on the cheek so I don't get her throwup germs. I'm thinking that's a good idea.